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THE PSYCHOLOGICAL PHENOMENA 
OF CHRISTIANITY 


BOOKS BY GEORGE B. CUTTEN 
PUBLISHED BY CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS 


Three Thousand Years of Mental Healing. 
Tilustrated *: | / shen = ak ae tebe LDU 


The Psychological Phenomena of Chris- 
tlanity’ .-5 ic ea ea fe ee al cee ake, Bae 


The Psychology of Alcoholism. Illustrated. 
net $1.50 





THE PSYCHOLOGICAL 
PHENOMENA OF CHRISTIANITY 


BY 


GEORGE EOSSSIOTS MEAT SES Ca HEAR A) 
7, 
Author of “‘ The Psychology of Alcoholism ”’ 


NEW YORK 
CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS 


IQi2 


Copyright, 1908, by 
CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS 





Published November 10908 





Zao | 


C73\ 


fo 


THE MEMBERS OF THE CHURCHES WHICH | HAVE HAD THE HONOR TO SERVE 
AS PASTOR (ALL, WITH THE EXCEPTION OF THE LAST TWO, IN CONNECTION 
WITH COLLEGE AND UNIVERSITY WORK), WHO HAVE TAUGHT ME MANY LESSONS 
CF RIGHTEOUSNESS AND TRUTH, THIS BOOK IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED 


The Oak Baptist Church, River John, Nova Scotia 


The Baptist Church, New Annan, Nova Scotia 
June 1, 1894-— October 1, 1894 


The Brooklyn Baptist Church, Lockhartville, Nova Scotia 
June 1, 1895-—June 1, 1896 


The Union Baptist Church, Montowese, Connecticut 
January 1, 1897—June 20, 1899 


The Howard Avenue Baptist Church, New Haven, Connecticut 
June 20, 1899- April 1, 1904 


The First Baptist Church, Corning, New York 
April 1, 1904-— October 15, 1907 


The First Baptist Church, Columbus, Ohio 
October 15, 1907 


fy pie) 
aves 6 od ¢: 


PREFACE 


THE attempt to approach religion from the standpoint of 
psychology is a matter of comparatively recent endeavor. 
The serious consideration of this subject has been confined 
to the last twenty-five years, and America has taken a leading 
part in the investigations; England, France, and Germany 
have all made contributions. The titles of some of the earlier 
volumes published have been far too comprehensive, but it 
is only natural that a part should be conceived as the whole in 
the days when a science is young and undeveloped. 

Minute investigations concerning some phases of the sub- 
ject have been made and much of real value has been con- 
tributed in this way, but it seemed that some one should 
essay a summation of the conclusions of these detailed studies, 
with other material, so that there might be laid before the 
public an outline of the psychological phenomena of Chris- 
tianity, covering as nearly as possible the whole field. This 
is the object of the present volume. 

With the exception of a few examples used for comparison 
or illustration, only the phenomena of Christianity are pre- 
sented, not because other religions could not furnish instruc- 
tive and interesting material, but because every religion 
could provide so much that a mere outline, as this is, would 
necessitate a volume of equal size, and so it would become too 
extensive and diversified for our present purpose. 

It will be noticed that the whole range of phenomena of 
Christianity has been included, abnormal and normal, patho- 
logical and healthful. In general, the first half is taken up 
with the abnormal and the latter half with the normal. 


vu 


vill PREFACE 


I have tried to keep in mind, in my writing, the general 
reader as well as the psychological and theological student, 
and hope that I have so far succeeded that both classes may 
find some profit in the reading. It has been my purpose to 
eschew philosophy and theology, and also to a great extent 
psychological theory, but two or three theories which seem 
to me fundamental have been made more or less prominent. 

It is my hope to make this the basis of another study in 
which the theory shall have the more prominent part. 


GEORGE BARTON CUTTEN. 
CoLuMBUuS, OHIO, 
July 1, 1908. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER I PAGE 
THROUGH THE HUMAN MouLtp .. . De wc Nae sce ae 


The Moulder, the Metal, and the Mould—Different forms of 
the mould explain variety of product—Laws of moulds—Sci- 
ence and Religion—Religion a psychological study—Com- 
plex character of psychological study—Need of psychological 
study by a soul physician—Medical versus theological 
schools—The theological seminary curriculum—Objections 
to a psychological study of religion—Data difficult to obtain 
—TIndividuality 


CHAPTER II 
MEER ELIGIOUS\ FACULTY 220206: ; IRONED EE ty | 


Old idea—Later Nee paligion for the whole man— 
Richness of religious experience—Symmetrical functioning 
of the whole mind needed—The subconsciousness—Its 
functions—The ally of consciousness—Genius—Sleep— 
Communication with the subconsciousness—Suggestibility 
—Over-emphasis and over-valuation of some mental activi- 
ties—Why is man religious ? 


CHAPTER III 
HC TONAn Mien) fumkcatatiu Sak oan Ie 8) fei de LN Qe 


Extreme form a matter of temperament—Common to all per- 
sons—Prayer—Ecstasy—Definition—Value—Christian and 
non-Christian mystics—Speculative mysticism—Pantheism 
—Self-surrender—Unity—Oneness with God—Mystical 
certainty—Epistemological factor—Value of mysticism— 
Stages in the mystical experience—Means for acquiring ex- 
treme states—Early versus later mystics—Love—Symbolic 
interpretations—Mystics in churches to-day—Subconscious- 
ness | 

ix 


xX CONTENTS 


CHAPTER IV 
ECSTASY 


A common phenomenon—Characteristics—Contagion—Res- 
ignation—Insensibility to pain—Non-religious ecstasy— 
Causes of ecstasy—Oriental means of attaining ecstasy— 
Primitive methods—A modern case—Forms of ecstasy— 
Relation of ecstasy to similar states—Analysis of ecstasy— 
Subconsciousness—Value of ecstasy 


CHAPTER V 


GLOSSOLALIA . 


e 


Ambiguity concerning the character of glossolalia—Pentecost 
and other New Testament references—Paul’s valuation of 
the gift—The modern view—The Catholic Apostolic 
Church—Mormons—Demoniacal possession—Another ex- 
planation—Exalted memory—As a contemporary mania— 
Apostolic Faith movement—Sleeping preachers—Rachel 
Baker 


CHAPTER VI 
VISTONS fin i ge Ri Oe ce ah tees oe 


Visions of the Bible—Importance in the Christian Church— 
St. Teresa on visions—Value to some individuals—Causes of 
visions among the hermits—Contents of visions among dif- 


PAGE 


aT 


49 


60 


ferent people—Vision of the Virgin at Dordogne—Definition | 


—Factors which decide the character of visions—How val- 
ued by the different ages—Elements of visions—Visions 
apart from ecstasy 


CHAPTER VII 
DREAMS ida 


Value assigned to dreams among primitive people—Veridical 
and prophetic dreams—Subconscious element in dreams— 
_ Immediate stimuli of dreams—Two kinds corresponding to 
the distinction between hallucinations and illusions—Mem- 
ory in dreams—Work done in dreams—Example of Cole- 
ridge-~Supernormal revelation psychologically possible— 
New Testament and other dreams with religious significance 
—Dreams during religious awakening 


CHAPTER VIII 
STIGMATIZATION 155460 bokeh ees ee cue nate aes 


Marks among the ancients—New Testament idea—Stigma- 
tization—St. Francis of Assisi—St. Catherine of Sienna— 


de 


78 


CONTENTS xl 


PAGE 
Dominicans and Franciscans—Explanation—Experiments 
—Louis V.—A young marine suggestively stigmatized— 
Other similar cases—Power of the mind over the body— 
Four divisions of stigmatics—Three possible explanations 
—Louise Lateau—Professional examination of her case— 
Mrs. Stuckenborg—Young converts 


CHAPTER IX 
WITCHCRAFT . eevee yale : 
Demoniacal possession and witchcraft—Witchcraft a Chris- 

tian doctrine—Primitive beliefs—Characteristics of witches— 
Jane Brooks—Amy Duny and Rose Cullender—Susannah 
Martin—Mrs. Hicks—The evidence considered—Four 
kinds—Fraud—Partisanship in Salem—The crime not 
witchcraft but the denial of the doctrine—Cotton Mather 
misrepresented—Unreliable evidence—Experts—Torture— 
Suicide—The witch finder general—Psychological explana- 
tion—Looking for causes—Evidence by the accused— 
Witch spots—Decline in the beliefi—Final cases 


SRUme Init styite it OO 


CHAPTER X 
RP eMUNTACATICHOSSESSION #7 thar) write oa ek vel 0) fo bie LOA 


Belief among Christians to-day—Jesus’ relation to demonism 
—Different theories—Belief among primitive people—New 
Testament use of the term—Exorcism—Epidemic form of 
demonism—Different cases—Father Surin—Wesley—Final 
cases—A case in Ceylon—China—Case of Kwo—Explana- 
tion—Double Personality—Heightened memory—Case of 
Achille—Age, sex and characteristics of demoniacs—Con- 
clusion 


CHAPTER XI 
MIONMAGTICISM: AND ASCETICISM.%.° 3. ew) es we 218 


Non-Christian ascetics—Psychological distinction between 
monk and churchman—Stages of development and charac- 
teristics—Results—Self-denial—Value—Negative and posi- 
tive attitude—Jesus’ asceticism—Negative side primary— 
The body evil—Humility—Confession—Obedience—Pov- 
erty—Self-denial and will power—Fasting—Eliminated 
from modern Protestantism—Value has changed—Fast- 
ing girlsk—Examples—Ann Moore—Psychological value— 
Visions—Concomitant virtues and vices—Rebellion against 
fasting—Modern _ investigations—Solitude—Causes and 
types—Individual piety—Famous solitary saints—Value— 
World still necessary—Injurious aspects—Torture—Causes 


Xl 


CONTENTS 


—Wrong conception of God—Endeavor to cure sensuality 
—Different views—Mental torture—Value—Henry Suso— 
Odor of  sanctity—Baths—Transfiguration—Women— 
Chronological table 


CHAPTER XII 


RELIGIOUS, EPIDEMICS 21) 38a ee cee 


Social groups—Waves. of. movements—Epidemics impossible 


in early Christianity—Monasticism—Beginnings—Statis- 
tics—Exaggeration—Decline—Preparation for later epi- 
demics—Pilgrimages—Causes— Extent — Crusades — Peter 
the Hermit—Urban II—Council of Clermont—Mobs led by 
Walter, Peter, Gottschalk, Bolkar, and Enricon—Children’s 
crusades—The German army—The French army—Extent 
of the movement—Flagellants—Dancing mania—Charac- 
teristics and classes—St. John’s dance—St. Vitus’ dance— 
Tarantism—Witchcraft—Statistics—Reasons for decline of 
religious epidemics—Chronological table 


CHAPTER XIII 


CONTAGIOUS PHENOMENA 


REVIVALS e e e ® e e e . e e e e 


Psychology of the crowd—Influence of lack of inhibitory con- 


trol—Power of imitation—Value of habit of control—Prin- 
ciples laid down by Le Bon—Suggestibility—Leader of a 
crowd—Collective hallucinations—Examples—Convulsion- 
aries—McDonaldites—Jewish Messiahs—Negroes—Influ- 
ence of former beliefs—The negro preacher—Phenomena of 
negro meetings—Example 


CHAPTER XIV 


Different kinds of revivals—Early revivals—New England 
prior to 1734—Edwards—The Great Awakening—The 
Wesleyan revival—The Kentucky revival—Character of the 
preaching—Crowds—Characteristics of the phenomena— 
Revival of 1832—Nettleton and Finney—Revival of 1857— 
Revival of 1875—The Welsh revival—Revival in India in 
1906—Chronological table—Physical manifestations—Re- 
vival methods—Emotionalism in revivals—Dangerous re- 
sults—Character of revivalists—A modern example—The 
revival a power—Prognostication—Decline—The new re- 
vival—Value—Do revivals do any good? 


PAGH 


146 


174 


Mixture of good and evil—Revivalists cling to the faults— 


CONTENTS Xlil 


CHAPTER XV pe 


4 FAITH CURE ry e e . e ° . . e ° ° e ® ° ° I 96 


Primitive therapeutics—Egypt—sculapius—Healing a slave 
to religion—Influence of saints and images—Relics—Ab- 
surdity unnoticed—Medicine sinful—Division into religious 
and mental healing—The king’s touch—A modern example 
—Paracelsus’ shrewd words—Relics not necessarily authen- 
tic—Three classes of religious healing—Christian shrines— 
Lourdes and St. Anne de Beaupré—Healers—Greatrakes— 
Gassner—Healing power—Braid—Ill repute of hypnotism 
—Psychological explanation—Influence of mind over body 
—Pain—Subconsciousness—Divine power—Expectancy— 
Patent Medicines—Placebo—General law 


CHAPTER XVI 


CHRISTIAN SCIENCE .. . : Ag be . 214 


Origin—Attraction—Philosophical and Practical—Thera- 
peutics—Lack of diagnosis—Curable cases—Method—Sin 
and disease—Metaphysical and faith cures—Functional dis- 
eases alone to be treated—‘“‘ Unity”—Testimonials—Sug- 
gestion through literature—Value 


CHAPTER XVII 


SPA TIRAGIES hr a sty Wes io alee 4g) jam ie. we wie 223 


Problem stated—Statistics—Character of miracles—Effect of 
explanation—Proof of historicity—Miracles duplicated— 
Unique miracles—Classes versus individual cases—Neces- 
sary elements in suggestive therapeutics—Suggestion—Jesus’ 
and Peter’s methods—Repeated suggestion—Faith—Three 
examples—Conclusions 


CHAPTER XVIII 
GRIN a ere a won TSE ay | ts" ohn en eatew (232 


Incomplete treatment—Data deficient—Term ‘‘conversion” 
restricted—The Pauline type—Conversion a normal experi- 
ence—A part of a process—Other forms of conversion— 
Types—Definitions—Unity—Factors—Sense of sin—Jon- 
athan Edwards—Hall—Leuba—The divided self—Doubt 
—Self-surrender—Physiological explanation—Psychologi- 
cal explanation—The will—Unification—Faith—Results of 
process—Feeling of newness—Joy, confidence and opti- 


X1V 


AGE . 
Types of religion according to age—Horrible examples of the 


CONTENTS 


mism—New truths—Altruism—Awakening of self—Hope- 
fulness—Annulling of lower temptations—Reasons— Desire 
for reform—Associations changed—Provides an emotional 
substitute— Will—Temperamental hindrances—Permanence 
—Subconsciousness—Temperamental qualifications—Phot- 
isms—Hypnotism and conversion—Objections—Subconscious 
elements essential—Divine element—Works subconsciously 
—Admissible 


CHAPTER XIX 


past—Case of Marion Lyle Hurd—Jonathan Edwards’ doc- 
trine—A French priest—Hymns of fifty years ago—Mod- 
ern examples—Sources of the fallacy—Total depravity— 
Parental ignorance—Children treated as children—Divi- 
sions of life—Divisions of childhood—Characteristics of in- 
fancy—Credulity and concreteness—Children’s ideas of 
God—From six to nine—From nine to twelve—General de- 
ductions regarding childhood—Religion fitted to the form 
of development—Comparison regarding the race and the 
Bible— Adolescence — Divisions—Second_birth— Charac- 
teristics—Conversion out of time—Religion and adolescence 
—Subconscious forces—Criticism by adolescent—Doubt— 
Independence—Need of doubt—Cniticism of self—Of life 
work—Christianity an adolescent religion—Mature religion 
—Different experiences 


CHAPTER XX 


SEX e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e 


Psychological distinction between sexes—Manifested in re- 


ligion—Characteristics of sex—Masculine and feminine psy- 
chology—Women intellectually inferior—Women volition- 
ally inferior—Men emotionally inferior—Suggestibility— 
Effects on religion—On conversion phenomena—Women 
morally superior—Sexual results of leadership—Reasons for 
sexual differences—Education and development—Organic 
causes—Gradual change—Greek life masculine—Chnistian- 
ity feminine—Was Jesus effeminate?—The ‘manliness of 
Christ—Will—Intellect—Emotions—Mixture of masculine 
and feminine in Christianity—Post-reformation period— 
Catholicism and Protestantism contrasted—Causes of mod- 
ern Christian effeminacy—Early training—Revivals—Wor- 
ship of luxury 


PAGE 


262 


284 


CONTENTS XV 


CHAPTER: XXT pica 
RPMEC ALMA re Mesh fe reads) Oo delat ches lame airtel; «402 


Intellectual definitions of religion—Intellectual balance—Mys- 
tics disparage reason—Connection between intellectuality and 
religion—Importance of reason—Reason a source—Other 
contributions—Reformers— Warfare of science and religion 
—Metaphysics—Analysis of religious belief—Primitive cre- 
dulity—Intellectual belief—Emotional belief—Criticism— 
Definition of reason—Nature of belief determined by its ob- 
ject—Doubt—A factor of adolescence—This an age of in- 
quiry—Cases of doubt classified—Faith—Chronological po- 
sition—Faith-state and faith-belief—Faith vital—Compre- 
hensive—Faith rational—Its convictions 


CHAPTER XXII 
KWOWLEDGE ..) 2 : as Gel Cars! 


Distinction between knowledge, belief, and faith—Philosophy 
involved in knowledge—Psychology not investigating reality 
—All knowledge the same kind—Degrees of knowledge— 
Epistemological problems in religion—Growth of religious 
knowledge—Knowledge uses all departments of the mind— 
Feeling now prominent in knowledge—The intellect—Inter- 
pretation—Solipsism and agnosticism—The feelings—Feel- 
ing of certainty—Logical feelings—The mystics—Temper- 
amental considerations—The will—The practical test— 
Religious knowledge possible and valuable. 


CHAPTER XXIII 
Bee LONG syst ence ee eT tay iis fs yo), Cel. 8) 332 


Imagination under-valued—Scientific use—Some imaginative 
qualities in use in all departments of life—Imagination and 
fancy—Harmony with other mental factors—Subconscious- 
ness—The mystics—Edwards on imagination—Whitefield’s 
controversy—Value—Bushnell on imagination—Reason 
and imagination—Creating ideals—Use in religion 


CHAPTER XXIV 
SOA TIONING Med ciMten waste Tet ao eiu's' oy creeds G42 


Inspiration common to all religions—Founders of religions 
special mediums of revelation—Abnormal phenomena con- 
nected with revelation—Development of prophetism—Value 
of prophets—Subconscious processes— Individuality — 
Method of inspiration—The mouthpiece of the Infinite— 


Xvi CONTENTS 


PAGE 
Examples—Inspiration verbal or dynamic—Degrees and 
modes of inspiration—Foretelling—Inspiration suggestive 
rather than dictatorial —Subconscious factor—Genius—An 
external power—lInspiration and abnormality—Conscious 
as well as subconscious factors used—Difference in the kinds 
of inspiration—All life inspired 


CHAPTER XXV 
WILL SO I ORO SE a 


Return to belief in importance of will—True in religion— 
Heresy trials—Practical tests—Revival methods—Self-sur- 
render—Incorrect translations—Repentance—Conversion 
—Jesus’ will—Religious effect on a shattered will—Mystical 
depreciation of will—Religion an emotional] outlet—Beliefs 
—Activity—Factors of will—End—Deliberation—Control 
—Choice—Effort—Freedom of will—Moral freedom 


CHAPTER XXVI 
EMOTIONS (6000006 eh ce ee) se e100 a pee 


Emphasis and depreciation of emotions both found to-day— 
Intellectual and conative factors in emotion—Emotions 
alone not the source of religion—Difficulty in studying emo- 
tions—Revival and solitary type of emotionalism—Religion 
the cure as well as the inciter of emotionalism—Emotions 
not uniform in experience—Emotionalism declines as 
thought advances—Fear—Dark ages—Modern times— 
Punishment—Decline of fear—Awe and the sublime—Not 
used by Protestants—Atsthetic emotions—Art—Love—. 
Mysticism—Conative factor in love—Joy—Joy of sadness— 
Examples—Edwards and Wellwood—Humility 


CHAPTER XXVILI 
WORSHIP 3?) fee SD EO 


Emotional—Early Christian worship spontaneous—It became 
formal—Ambiguity—Temperamental considerations—Ab- 
stractions difficult—Intolerant—Danger of replacing Deity 
by symbols—Form versus real religious life—Protestantism 
anti-Roman—Ceremonial the seed and fruit of doctrine— 
Mere externals—Feminine and masculine elements—Val- 
uable factor of worship—Fear versus love—Effects—Sun- 
day—Origin—Rest—Joy—Present lack of Sunday observ- 
ance— Cure— Music— Protestant hymnology—Incite to 
emotion rather than to action—The same is true of prayer 
meeting and revival songs. 


CONTENTS xvii 


CHAPTER XXVIII Ce 
MRAVER 6. 45.6 : ‘ ie a ny Ley 


Prayer universal—Why do we pray—Filial attitude—J ustifi- 
cation intrinsic—Restrictions of peace and media—The Lord’s 
prayer—Causes for decline of prayer—Petitional prayer— 
The weather—Influence of prayer—Results of prayer— 
Subjective value—Reflex effect—Relation to the subcon- 
sciousness—Therapeutic value of prayer—Direct answers 
in sickness—Real influence of prayer—God a companion 
rather than a giver—Influence of the prayers of others— 
George Miuller—Personal and material answers 


CHAPTER XXIX 
OTIC Bar TR) Ses as Big elec i wits One) Yaa w ALO 


Relation between sexuality and religion—Love and religion— 
Classes of evidence—Christianity and sexuality—Irregu- 
larities in primitive Christianity—Some early Protestants— 
Argument from pathology—Psychological argument—Two 
phases—Connection between human and divine love—Ob- 
jection of Prof. Ladd—Connection between sexual and re- 
ligious life in adolescence—Over emphasis—Hymnology— 
Objection of Prof. James—Sexual abnormality in religious 
devotees—Excess—Influence of Revivals—Revival of 1832 
and its results—Justification of licentiousness—Spiritual 
marriage— Marriage between God and the soul—Gradations 
of mystical experiences—Suso—Gertrude— Marie de I’ Incar- 
nation—Carnal form of spiritual marriage—Justification— 
Perfection—Affinities—Biblical warrant—Three contem- 
poraneous movements—Progress of the movements—Amer- 
ica—Mormonism—Battle-Axe letter—Davis and Spiritual- 
ism—Continence—Castration—Vows—Biblical warrant— 
Women considered evil—Dispute between Northern and 
Southern Europe—Praiseworthy self-denial—Influence upon 
marriage—Violence to human nature—Remedy for clerical 
licentiousness—Temperamental elements in choosing priest- 
hood—Influence of confession—Moral result—Cruelty— 
Morbid effects of continence 


CHAPTER XXX 
EE INA TONALISN (oro cis! Cer eV irent ea ee ih 450 


Necessity of denominationalism—Temperamental considera- 
tions—Origin of sects—Symptom of vigor of religion—Orig- 
inality and spontaneity—Temperamental differences due to 
heredity and environment—Variation—Many have not 
found denominational affinity—Roman Catholics and Prot- 


XVill CONTENTS 


PAGE 
estants—Authority and emphasis—Men cannot get most 
out of worship until they find their proper groups—All de- 
nominations emphasize some important tenet—Some have 
had their distinctive tenets universally accepted 


CHAPTER XXXI 
IMMORTALITY) 00 ons| pgs aie ee ee 


Psychology and immortality—Destructive—No mind without 
brain—Explanation—Spiritual body—Prof. James’ solution 
—Spiritism— Prejudice against— Science— Supersensible 
foundations—Evidence scanty—Telepathy—Its operation 
—Mr. Myers—Opinions concerning spiritism—Kind of evi- 
dence necessary—The investigators—Telepathy and spirit- 
ism—Explanation of character of evidence already obtained 


CHAPTER XXXII 
PREACHING: 6 iehite 6) os ile ed ioe wre 


Importance of preaching—Is it declining ?—The personality 
of the preacher—Interest and attention—Voluntary and 
spontaneous attention— Personality — Earnestness— New 
and old subjects—Suggestive preaching—Fluctuation of 
attention—Variety—Rhythm—Uniformity of—Factors of 
—The crowd—Conditions favorable for changing audiences 
into crowds—Limitation of voluntary movements—The 
leader—Fitting the sermon to the crowd—Affirmation— 
Reaction—Mental imagery—Arousing emotion—Expres- 
sion of emotion—Laws of—Attraction of 


INDEX OF NAMES .: «, 6. «. 6) «). © 110i le tnennenennan 


INDEX OF SUBJECTS .- ci sje is « «© 0 ottetneee 


THE PSYCHOLOGICAL PHENOMENA 
OF CHRISTIANITY 


THE | 
PSYCHOLOGICAL PHENOMENA 
OF CHRISTIANITY 


CHAPTER: I 
THROUGH THE HUMAN MOULD 


“What a piece of work is man! how noble in reason! how infinite 
in faculty! in form and moving how express and admirable! in action 
how like an angel! in apprehension how like a God!””—SHAKESPEARE. 


HAVE you ever watched the iron moulder or the worker in 
bronze? The hour for casting has arrived; the glowing, 
molten mass is carried in large vessels by clanging, creaking 
cranes to the huge moulds which seem to cover the floor; or 
strong-armed men bear hand-ladles, filled to the brim with 
liquid metal from the same furnace, and pour it into lesser 
moulds which stand ready to receive it. Presently the bands 
are loosened, the boxes are removed, and behold the product! 
The same moulder, the same charge, but how dissimilar the 
results! It is the mould which is responsible for the difference. 

For thousands of years men have tried to fathom the pro- 
found mysteries of religion by speculating concerning the 
Moulder and the metal, but not until the eighteenth century 
did they think of examining the mould. This seems the more 
incomprehensible when we consider that the mould—the 
human mind—was the factor which was the most easily 
accessible for definite study and exact knowledge. It appears 
to be the natural starting-place instead of the final subject in | 
the examination. But it is ever thus—distance lends en- 

3 


4 THROUGH THE HUMAN MOULD 


chantment, and the comparatively unattainable is always 
attractive. The Holyoke resident rushes across sea and land 
to obtain the view from the Swiss Alps, but has never ascended 
Mt. Tom; we go farther to fare worse. 

When we consider the mould, several things become ap- 
parent. We think of God, the Moulder, as the Father of 
Lights, with whom is no variableness; we consider His reve- 
lation and His grace as constant toward all men; why, then, 
the difference in religious experience? Why the primitive 
nature worship and the exalted Christianity in the same 
world? Why the childish credulity, the adolescent doubt, 
and the mature, reasonable faith in the same person? Why 
the different forms of Christianity as exhibited by the several 
denominations? It depends on the mould. We cannot 
understand how the mystic and the ecstatic can be embracing 
the same religion as the rationalist, if we consider only the 
Moulder and the metal, but the explanation is plain when we 
examine the capacity and form of the mould. With an exact 
knowledge of the minds of men we can prognosticate what 
form of expression the religious life will take in a particular 
case, for this is the one variable quantity. It is this that is 
meant when it is said that man is the maker of his religion. 
It might be still more definitely said that each man is the 
maker of his own religion, 7. e., that his religion is moulded 
according to the characteristics of his soul. 

We must not think, however, because moulds are different 
that they do not conform to any laws. There are laws of 
moulds as there are laws of metals. It is because of the 
science of psychology and the well known laws of mental 
action that we can study religion from the human standpoint. 
True, religion has been tangled with all forms of abnormal, 
and even insane, mental vagaries, yet we recognize laws of 
abnormality as we do of normal processes, and we may sepa- 
rate the dross from the metal. 


THROUGH THE HUMAN MOULD 5 


Among the first to direct attention to the psychological 
study of religion was Schleiermacher. He was interested in 
the emotional nature of religion and made some shrewd 
observations concerning this phase of the subject. But this 
was rather the result of the Zeitgeist than an original and 
novel innovation on his part, for with the genesis of scientific 
development it was inevitable that a scientific study of re- 
ligion should occur. There is no other domain of humar 
experience so universal and profound as religion, and the all- 
pervading scientific spirit must reach it. Although about a 
century has elapsed since that time, comparatively little has 
been accomplished, for our ways change slowly and our 
prejudices die hard. Some religious leaders have always 
feared science—feared that the development of science 
would result in the disintegration of religion. This cannot 
be. They are both manifestations of the same God, and 
instead of being antagonistic they are friendly and _ helpful. 
True, science may destroy theory and dogma, but such of 
these as it annihilates are best eliminated from our systems. 
Facts are solid rock on which we can build, or the same solid 
rock will prove an impregnable barrier against which we shall 
hurl our opposition in vain. 

The study of religion is always essentially psychological. 
Whatever else can be predicated of religion, we must admit 
that it consists of a great variety of mental experiences, and 
of mental experiences only. We must take for granted that 
these mental states may be examined, analyzed, and de- 
scribed as other mental states may be, and this without refer-: 
ence to dogmatic theology. Theology has, in the past, en- 
deavored to prove what mental states the religious person 
must have; psychology now assumes the task of observing 
what these states actually are. 

The facts in the religious life—the psychological data— 
form a foundation on which theology must build, for it is only 


6 THROUGH THE HUMAN MOULD 


as we examine the products of the moulds, as variable as they 
may be, that we can hope to understand the nature of the 
material or the design of the Moulder. The modern psycho- 
/ logical and pedagogical method is from the known to the un- 
known, 7. e., in this case from man to God} the ancient theo- 
logical method was from the unknown to the known. By 
resting our theories upon the facts we obtain exactness, and 
thereby rid theology of the superstition with which it has 
abounded. Chance, which formerly seemed to play an im- 
portant réle in religion, is now only useful as a mathematical 
fiction. 

In applying the methods of science to religion there may 
be needed a word of warning. The phenomena of material 
science are comparatively simple and its laws proportion- 
ately easy to discover. When, however, these same methods 
are applied to mental phenomena, which are vastly more 
complex and the laws of which are more obscure and elusive, 
there is great need of severely testing every hypothesis and 
theory by the facts and sacrificing any which do not stand the 
test. If we find this necessary in dealing with psychology, 
ethics, sociology, and history, it is still more important when 
we are dealing with religion, which involves questions, not 
only of man’s whole complex nature, but of his still more 
complex and mysterious dealings with God. 

The psychological standpoint is not only important but in- 
dispensable for the religious worker, whether preacher or 
teacher. No amount of goodness or devotion can take its 
place. To the medical man, not therapeutics, but diagnosis, 
is the chief matter of concern to-day. If he knows definitely 
what is the trouble with the patient there is some hope of 
cure. The same thing is even more true with those who are 
concerned in “the cure of souls.”’ The difference between 
the physician and the minister is this: the medical schools are 
doing all they can to instruct their pupils in this important 


THROUGH THE HUMAN MOULD 7 


branch of knowledge, the theological seminaries compara- 
tively nothing. Years ago the witch doctor and the medicine 
man had one prescription for every disease, and to-day the 
nostrum vender and the proprietary medicine men are get- 
ting wealthy by the same means. But we recognize this as 
neither scientific nor conforming to ordinary common sense. 
Does the seminary course lead to similar training ? 

Suppose a school of medicine to start with a curriculum 
containing adequate courses in chemistry and the com- 
pounding of drugs in the most elaborate way, the best meth- 
ods of sugar-coating pills and administering doses, the history 
of medicine from A#sculapius to the present time, a descrip- 
tion of superficial pathology, analytical study of the lectures 
of famous and successful physicians, gynecology, and similar 
courses, but absolutely nothing on gross anatomy, histology, 
or physiology, and consequently little or no surgery, how 
would such an abbreviated and deformed course be received 
by competent medical men or even by the average public? 
To ask the question is to answer it. The query would be, 
‘‘Of what use is the part which you do get if you leave out 
the other? How will you use your drugs if you know nothing 
of the different organs of the body and their functions?” 
These would be sensible and cogent questions. I do not 
criticise what is taught—far from it; these things ought ye to 
teach, but ye should not leave untaught the other things. 

What does the ordinary seminary graduate know of the 
histology, anatomy, physiology, or surgery of the soul? 
Absolutely nothing. He must stumble along through years 
of trying experience and look back over countless mistakes 
before he understands these things even in a general way. 
What does the ordinary graduate understand about doubt? 
It is all classed together, whether in adolescents or in hard- 
ened sinners, and one dose is applied. What does the gradu- 
ate know about sexuality, so closely allied with certain forms 


8 THROUGH THE HUMAN MOULD 


of religious manifestations? What about ecstasy in its vari- 
ous forms, the numerous methods of faith cure thrust upon 
an illiterate but credulous people, or the significance or insig- 
nificance of visions and dreams? - 

The seminary student is taught ancient languages, which 
are excellent, but I am afraid a great many Hebrew Bibles 
need dusting. He is now taught sociology—the history and 
idiosyncrasies of races and crowds—but he goes out and 
meets but one race, and never sees a crowd except at a fire. 
What he does see and with what he has to deal are individual 
men with their different spiritual diseases, yet how many are 
prepared for this? The same question may be asked of the 
Sunday-school teacher, who has similar work and problems, 
and we must suggest the same answer. The psychological 
view-point, the study of men and their religious experiences, 
is the only solution. 

I recognize that spiritual dissection and vivisection must 
meet the same objections as, or even more strenuous objec- 
tions than, their physical analogues, but one is as necessary 
as the other, and both are imperative, if an adequate knowl- 
edge of the subject is to be obtained. Some persons consider 
their own religious experience as a sacred domain where only 
they themselves can tread and that with unshod feet, and 
they demand the same privilege for others. With these 
people there is no argument which can be used to change 
their opinion—they must be allowed their ideas, but most 
fair-minded persons can see the value of such an enquiry for 
the sake of obtaining facts, and the necessity of the discussion 
of these facts for the purpose of setting forth the spiritual 
diseases and their concomitant cures. 

A further objection is raised to the investigation of religious 
phenomena. Some are afraid that the analysis and descrip- 
tion of religious experiences will eliminate the divine elements 
or destroy their peculiarly devotional factors. These fears are 


THROUGH THE HUMAN MOULD 9 


groundless. The religion which can only be supported by 
ignorance or superstition cannot hope to minister to the 
twentieth century, and Jesus does not speak in compliment- 
ary terms of those who love darkness rather than light. The 
duty of a spiritual physician must be twofold, that of teach- 
ing spiritual hygiene to the healthy and the cure of the dis- 
eased; for it is as important that the healthy be kept well as 
that the sick be healed. 

The data for the science of psychology are rather difficult 
to obtain. True, we have all had some experience, and ma- 
terial may seem to be present wherever we look. The diffi- 
culty is that there is much self-deception in introspection; 
very few persons are able to interpret their own psychical 
experiences. ‘This is especially true of religious experience. 
The first thing which genuine introspection discloses to us is 
that self-knowledge is exceedingly hard to obtain. After a 
time has elapsed, we are liable to cite our experience as we 
unconsciously think it should be according to the test'mony 
of others, or according to orthodox standards, rather than as 
it really occurred, and still be perfectly honest about it. Not 
only are certain standards of experience suggested so that 
persons have it according to this or that form, but even if 
the experience does not exactly correspond to this at the time 
the powerful influence of suggestion helps to harmonize the 
two. 

There is a further difficulty. It is hard to get the facts 
without at the same time receiving the theory of the person 
experiencing the facts, and the theory very frequently colors 
the facts. Ifa person is asked to observe his religious mani- 
festations, he usually does it with his theoretical postulates 
in mind, so that it is difficult to make the facts serve for any 
other purpose than for that which the one experiencing them 
intends. This is another disadvantage of the mould, but as 
we recognize the difficulties we are in a better position to 


IO THROUGH THE HUMAN MOULD 


overcome them. In fact, we shall see that the variety of 
moulds may be quite confusing, but as this is our only avenue 
for receiving, we are left no other alternative than to examine 
the product as it comes through the mould and endeavor to 
interpret the design of the Great Moulder. This is for no 
selfish end or petty gain, but in order that the human mould 
itself may be so corrected, so formed and smoothed and 
softened that the real beauty and grandeur of the Moulder’s 
design may be apparent to all men. 

To force all moulds to conform to a uniform pattern would 
defeat, not accomplish, this purpose. Education is insisting 
that individuality must be preserved, and this is also vital to 
religion. The aim must be to furnish guidance so that the 
individual characteristics may be developed; variety in 
unity, not homogeneity, is the ideal of the kingdom of God. 
The affirmation of God in the life, and the realization of the 
true man—the child of God—in the individual, rather. than 
self-effacement, fulfil the teachings of the Man of Galilee. 


CHAPTER II 
THE RELIGIOUS FACULTY 


“This above all: to thine own self be true, 
And it must follow, as the night the day, 
Thou canst not then be false to any man.” 
SHAKESPEARE. 


THis chapter is named in accordance with the law of 
compensation. I speak of the ‘‘Religious Faculty”? because 
there is no such thing. Years ago, before psychology had 
attained the dignity of a science, or at least before the science 
had advanced to its present stage, the mind was divided into 
“‘faculties.”” These faculties were separate and distinct, and 
each one was devoted to some particular business. Thus we 
had the ‘“‘Religious Faculty,” which was used exclusively for 
religious purposes; it could not be used for anything else and 
no other faculty could be used for religious exercises. We 
have grown away from this idea of mentality as we have be- 
come better informed concerning psychic phenomena. 

A great step in advance was made when psychologists 
began to view the mind according to its activity rather than 
according to its content. The present accepted divisions are 
those of Intellect, Feeling, and Will, and these are present 
to some degree in all mental acts. We designate a particular 
act of mind as intellectual when the intellectual factor pre- 
dominates, but that does not mean that there is no emotional 
nor volitional factor involved. ‘The mind functions in a 
similar manner regardless of the subject before it. The 


same intellectual activity is present in religious thinking as in 
Pf 


12 THE RELIGIOUS FACULTY 


financial, the same powers of mind are at work in biblical 
study as in mathematical. Not a different “faculty,” but a dif- 
ferent aim, distinguishes the different forms of mental action. 

Perhaps, however, there is no subject which completely 
calls into activity the whole mind so much as religion. No 
phase of mental life escapes, for it is all-embracing. For a 
well-developed religious experience, the activity of the whole 
man is necessary. Some persons receive the consciousness of 
God through one activity, some through another, while others 
are not able to designate any special channel through which 
this has come, but find that the working of the whole mind in 
general ways has conveyed it to them. The sense of the 
divine presence penetrates all forms of human mentality, 
and is not limited to special occasions, or extraordinary or 
abnormal experience. If we believe in the immanence of 
God, we should expect Him to appeal to us through all of our 
mental states. It is hard for most persons to realize this. 

A study of the various definitions of religion will reveal 
a thorough one-sidedness. Each person emphasizes that 
factor which is prominent in his own religious life. He for- 
gets that the bond between the various mental factors is so 
close that we cannot stimulate any one without exciting the 
others. This being true, we cannot sympathize with those 
who endeavor to eliminate one or another part of mental 
activity from the religious life. The rationalist who recog- 
nizes the emotional abuses in some religious gatherings 
would reduce emotion in religion to a minimum. He errs at 
one extreme. The emotionalist who recognizes the coldness 
and motivelessness of the rationalistic standpoint would cul- 
tivate zeal at the expense of knowledge. He also errs. To be 
rational is not to be devoid of feeling, any more than to rec- 
ognize the value of feeling is to indulge in unreasonable 
action. The strong volitional character is not the religious 
ideal any more than the feeble saint. The divine in man can 


THE RELIGIOUS FACULTY 13 


mean no single quality; it must mean the well-developed 
combination of all human qualities. Therefore the ideal is 
seen in no one person around us, but each man who is trying 
to live his life worthily spells one syllable or word; the com- 
bined expression of the religious community, “the kingdom 
of God,” furnishes the completed sentence which defines the 
divine. 

“Strong affections need a strong will; strong active powers 
need a strong intellect; strong intellect needs strong sympa- 
thies, to keep life steady. If the balance exist, no one faculty 
can possibly be too strong—we only get the stronger all- 
round character. In the life of saints, technically so called, 
the spiritual faculties are strong, but what gives the impression 
of extravagance proves usually on examination to be a rela- 
tive deficiency of intellect. Spiritual excitement takes path- 
ological forms whenever other interests are too few and the 
intellect too narrow. We find this exemplified by all the 
saintly attributes in turn—devout love of God, purity, 
charity, asceticism, all may lead astray.”’? 

Christian experience is far richer and more varied than is 
generally supposed and taught, and no single type or group 
of types can exhaust it. Many who seek for certain experi- 
ences, which a one-sided teacher may proclaim as their 
privilege, are sorely disappointed; for these experiences may 
not be possible with the peculiar temperament of certain 
individuals. The best religion, real religion, ought to call 
into operation all the faculties of the individual mind, and no 
temperamental nor sentimental tests must be applied; each 
one must discover for himself the type of religion which cor- 
responds best with what he believes to be his mental make-up 
and with what he thinks to be his true work here; and in the 
way which most properly expresses his own soul he should 
seek to establish personal relations with God. 

1W. James, The Varieties of Religious Experience, p. 340. 


14 THE RELIGIOUS FACULTY 


What is needed is the symmetrical working of the indi- 
vidual mind, in order that emotion, intellect, and will may 
each perform its proper function according to the idiosyn- 
crasies of the individual, and that the various functions may 
work together like the delicate yet well-adjusted parts of an 
intricate machine. It is well to notice that the requisites of 
the Christian religion are expressed by the terms, belief, 
love, and activity, which, as we shall readily recognize, cor- 
respond to our tripartite mental division, intellect, feeling, 
and will. There is room in religion for the exercise of all our 
powers, and it requires the normal working of each one to 
keep the others in place. In fact, if we seek the mental 
sources of religion we shall discover that they are to be found . 
in all psychic action. 

There is one form of mental activity which has been much 
emphasized during the last few years. Only recently has its 
existence in its present form been recognized, and, as is 
usual in such cases, I fear too much has been attributed to it. 
It has been known by many names, chief among which are 
“The Subconscious Self” and ‘‘The Subliminal Self.” 
There is a valid objection to any name in which the word 
“‘self” is used, for it insinuates the presence of a duality or 
multiplicity of personalities connected with one brain or 
body. In invading the integrity of the personality much con- 
fusion and misapprehension arise. The term ‘“subcon- 
sciousness” seems to me to be descriptive, but at the same 
time free from the objections which may be charged against 
the other terms. The name implies a theory, and although 
the same phenomena are discussed which were formerly 
credited to “unconscious cerebration,” a different explanation 
of them is given. While much—good, bad, and indifferent 
—has been written on the subject, it is necessary for us to 
deal with it here somewhat fully. This necessity arises for 
two reasons: it is not generally so well known as the more 


THE RELIGIOUS FACULTY Is 


common forms of mental activity, and in the following pages 
it will be used in the explanation of some religious experi- 
ences which were formerly credited to other agents. 

If we will stop for a moment and consider, we shall realize 
that there is much mental activity of which we are not con- 
scious. Some of this which at one time caused much con- 
scious effort is now carried on unconsciously through the 
mechanism of habit; some other portions we have never 
consciously directed. All that part of the mind which min- 
isters to somatic activity is an example of the latter. The 
respiration, heart action, secretions of the various organs, 
peristaltic action of the stomach and intestines, regulation of 
the blood supply, and other vital functions, are all controlled 
by the subconsciousness, and any direct, conscious effort to 
control these organs tends rather to disarrange and disturb 
function than to assist it. So long as the organs are in health 
and perform their regular functions in their proper manner, 
the consciousness is entirely ignorant of their existence. 
When you begin to know that you have organs, then some- 
thing is wrong, for the subconsciousness sends out a warning 
in the form of pain and demands that consciousness shall 
supply a remedy. Because the subconsciousness controls 
these bodily functions, it is only by reaching it, directly or 
indirectly, that these organs can be affected through mental 
means. 

While this is an important office of the subconsciousness, it 
is not, by any means, its principal work. It is the constant 
ally of consciousness. Subconscious influence is woven into 
every mental product. There is no doubt that subconscious 
impressions govern many actions every day. We do not realize 
whence they come, but they may even force us in opposition 
to our reason. Thus we may have intuitions, impulses, un- 
reasonable likes and dislikes, love at first sight, convictions 
without any reason to uphold them, or spontaneous ideas 


16 THE RELIGIOUS FACULTY 


apparently well worked out. Delusive, fixed, insane, or hys- 
terical ideas also find their source in the subconsciousness. 
It is not a separate entity, nor is it antagonistic to conscious- 
ness; they work together. The two fields of mental activity 
are divided by what has been designated “‘the threshold of 
consciousness.”’ All above is consciousness, all below is sub- 
consciousness, but they interact on each other. The im- 
pressions which we consciously receive are not all that we 
get; the subconsciousness receives much which escapes con- 
sciousness, and may dispatch certain impressions to con- 
sciousness at an opportune time, or if not definite impressions, 
it may furnish a mood which cannot be consciously accounted 
for. Consciousness is selective and critical, the subcon- 
sciousness is not. It takes anything and everything without 
question, but it is not always allowed by consciousness to 
incorporate these things into the life. It is exceedingly imita- 
tive; what is often charged to heredity may be but the activ- 
ity of the imitative subconsciousness. 

Perhaps no better example of the work of the subconscious- 
ness can be mentioned than that of genius. What distin- 
guishes the genius from the ordinary man? It is not the ex- 
aggeration of reasoning or volitional power, but rather the 
remarkable and numerous impressions or ideas which “‘ pop” 
into his consciousness ready-made. He is not conscious of 
thinking these things out, but at times sits by as an inter- 
ested spectator and wonders what will come next. How do 
we explain this psychologically? It is the activity of the 
subconsciousness which sends into consciousness these mani- 
fold helps. Perhaps we might say that the threshold of con- 
sciousness is lowered, 7. e., that the every-day working ability 
of the mind is extended to take in and more readily use addi- 
tional subconscious areas, so that the latter more fully co-op- 
erate with and supplement consciousness while the regular 
work goes on. An extreme example of this may be found in 


THE RELIGIOUS FACULTY 17 


prodigies who make their appearance occasionally, e. g., the 
mathematical prodigy who ‘‘knows the answer’ without 
consciously working out the arithmetical exercise. Some 
further cases may be mentioned akin to this, of persons unable 
to solve problems at night and waking up in the morning 
with the solution, or dreaming the solution. This leads us 
a step further. 

During sleep, when consciousness no longer rules and 
controls life, the subconsciousness has charge. At this time 
the bodily functions are carried on as usual, as well as much 
other mental activity. Some persons are able to suggest a 
time of waking, and the subconsciousness acts as the alarm 
clock. The mother’s subconsciousness disturbs and awakens 
her if the baby breathes hard, but allows her to sleep through 
the slamming of doors and the crashing of thunder. These 
and other purposeful and useful actions are performed with- 
out the aid of consciousness. We must, however, be careful 
not to confuse actions of this kind with others which we con- 
sciously performed but forgot on awaking. In dreams we 
have the subconsciousness working freely, but in its uncriti- 
cal way, so that most dreams are valueless. The somnambu- 
list, who, during sleep, walks around and performs work, 
shows the subconsciousness taking full charge and accom- 
plishing difficult or nominally impossible feats, or doing work 
which the consciousness needs, e. g., writing sermons, solving 
problems, drawing diagrams, or finding lost articles. 

Sleep furnishes us with an example of another subconscious 
principle, viz., the subconsciousness may be communicated 
with and may control the body quite fully when by some 
means the normal, controlling action of the mind is excluded. 
The time when the subconsciousness can be most surely 
reached with profit is during the hypnotic state. Then the 
consciousness is in abeyance and the subconsciousness has 
control. It may also be approached directly during the mo- 


18 THE RELIGIOUS FACULTY 


ments preceding sleep, during delirium and other mental 
disorders, in automatic writing, and in conditions some of 
which we shall study in the following pages. 

The chief characteristic of the subconsciousness, and one 
that we shall do well to remember for our use in these pages, is 
its suggestibleness. I have already mentioned its uncritical 
and unselective character; on account of this it is suggestible. 
Anything suggested is received, and, so far as possible, it is 
carried out. I have not tried to give a plenary description 
of it, but only such as seemed necessary to assist us in the 
explanation of religious phenomena to be given later. 

I do not wish to be understood, either here or in any other 
place, as giving too much credit to the work of the sub- 
consciousness. ‘To do that would be to misrepresent the 
facts. It is important, but so are the conscious factors of 
mind. They will be taken up later, and due credit given 
them where it belongs. Undue emphasis on the subcon- 
scious action tends to create mysteries. ‘True, there are 
mysteries in religion, but it is not well to postulate nor sug- 
gest unnecessary ones. While I trust that each mental 
factor will be dealt with in the proper manner, it remains 
for me to say this before leaving the description of the sub- 
consciousness: I believe if God works directly in man He 
must work through the subconsciousness. We know of His 
indirect dealings through the reason, imagination, emotions, 
and will, but directly in the cure of bodily ills, revelation, 
inspiration, and in other ways, the subconsciousness has the 
major part to perform. 

We do not exalt religion by claiming that it deals largely 
with one portion of the mind, neither do we degrade it by 
showing its connection with any other portion. There is no 
partial operation of the mind which may claim such intrinsic 
dignity that we may strive to relate it to our religious ex- 
periences for the sake of the prestige which it may lend. It 


THE RELIGIOUS FACULTY 19 


requires all forms of mentality to constitute the real and 
true man. The same may be predicated of the connection 
of certain religious experiences with the physical. The rela- 
tion is real and must be recognized. The physical condition 
of the individual does influence our mental states, but very 
seldom, if ever, can we say that it controls them. The mind 
is master. But our psychological study simply determines 
the modus operandi of the mind in religion, and does not 
‘attempt to express an opinion concerning the value of the 
product. Ethics, not psychology, must take up the latter 
task. 

The question might naturally be asked, If there is no 
religious faculty set apart for religious work, if religion 
simply uses the ordinary powers of mind, how does it hap- 
pen that man is religious at all? We can give only one 
answer, and that may seem to be lacking in illumination. 
Man is religious because he belongs to the human race, a 
characteristic of which is to be religious. Of course we are 
able to analyze further than this. We may say that there 
are subconscious influences which impel him to be religious, 
that there are emotional experiences which draw him in this 
same direction; we may call attention to the fact that man 
is naturally a philosopher and will speculate and try to 
explain his existence, its source and destiny; we may con- 
sider his social instincts as aids to the religious life, and we 
may recognize that through imitation he may wish to be like 
the God whom his speculations and intuitions picture, but, 
after all, what is this but saying that he is so constituted 
mentally that he cannot help it? He is, as Sabatier says, 
“incurably religious.” 

The “Religious Faculty” proves to be not one mental area 
fenced off from the rest, but man in his entirety. Not a 
psychic factor is left out, for religion requires and uses the 
whole man. 


CHAPTER III 
MYSTICISM 


“We are such stuff 
As dreams are made on, and our little life 
Is rounded with a sleep.” SHAKESPEARE. 


In taking up Mysticism as the first form of religious ex- 
pression to be discussed, I do so for two reasons. In the 
first place, it is an experience common to all people; and in 
the second place, it leads naturally to a number of religious 
phenomena which are usually connected with it, while not 
an integral or necessary part of it. 

While it is true that mysticism, especially in its extreme 
forms, is a matter of temperament and unattainable by some 
people, yet we find in it the kernel of all religions, and of 
Christianity not less than of others. It is found among all 
races, and all religions must look to it in seeking for origins, 
and for the method and cause of revival after religious 
declension. In times when a barren orthodoxy has usurped 
the place of a vital faith, mystics have arisen to show by 
practical means that religion is something more than a dry 
dogma, which furnishes an exercise for the understanding. 
It is a protest of the individual, living, inner experience 
against the formal systems of men long since dead and 
buried. 

Religion—real religion—always contains a unique factor 
for every individual, and nothing short of mystical ex- 
periences of the more pronounced type will satisfy some 


people. Every one is justified in having his own religious 
20 


MYSTICISM 21 


needs satisfactorily met, for ‘‘it is only in the reality of the 
living experience of the Individual Self that the Universal and 
Absolute becomes known and believed in or dimly appre- 
hended as felt.” * The religious strivings which we may not 
be able to share with others are strictly our own, and these 
are the experiences which make religion. We may say that 
religion stands or falls with the personal inner experiences. 

Perhaps the most common mystical experience, not only 
in all religions, but in all individuals of all religions, is that 
of prayer. Here, if it is truly prayer, we come into con- 
scious realization of a union with God, and this is the heart 
of mysticism. The church has never been without its 
mystics, nor could it well exist without its mystical phases of 
piety. In the dark ages mysticism was the saving power, 
the Reformation owes not a little of its strength to this same 
cause, and even to-day the virility of Protestantism is sus- 
tained by personal religious experiences, notwithstanding 
the many vagaries and even pathological factors in the 
expression of these inner experiences. 

The religious phenomena which are usually associated with 
mysticism centre around the experiences of ecstasy. Mys- 
ticism, pure and simple, is a normal religious experience, but 
ecstatic states are liable to be based upon pathological con- 
ditions, and hence those psychologists who are searching for 
traces of disease in everything outside of every-day ex- 
periences are liable to attribute a morbid character to mys- 
ticism as such.? Starting from this normal and common 
experience we may take up these less common religious 
phenomena in a natural order and sequence. 

While mysticism lends itself to a primary place in our 
discussion on account of its known factors, there are some 

1G. T. Ladd, Philosophy of Religion, I, p. 595. 

2E. Murisier, Les maladies du sentiment religieux, includes mysticism 
among these diseases. 


22 MYSTICISM 


reasons why it might be transferred to a late place on our 
programme, chief among which is the great difficulty and 
diversity of definition." The definition is usually given 
according to the personal experience of the one defining, or 
else according to the particular form with which one is most 
familiar. ‘This means, of course, that there are many dif- 
ferent forms of mysticism: for example, there is religious, 
philosophic, and artistic mysticism, and of the first kind, 
the type with which we are now dealing, emphasis may be 
laid on the epistemological or on the emotional factor; it may 
be spontaneous or induced; it may be normal or pathological. 
It is evident that any one describing one form of mysticism 
would not be likely to form a definition which would apply 
to all or perhaps any of the other forms, and hence the con- 
fusion. 

What is true of the definition is also true concerning the 
value placed upon the experience by different observers. 
Some consider it pathological or a symptom of densest 
ignorance, others think of it as the highest mental product, 
or divine inspiration. Some think of the revelation received 
through mysticism as the exact words, direct from the lips of 
the Almighty, others affirm that it is but the insane promptings 
of a diseased brain.” We must account for this difference 
in valuation in the same way as we account for the variety 
of definitions, viz., those expressing these opinions have come 
in contact with the different forms of mysticism, and all, in 
fact, may be right without contradicting one another. As in 
the investigation of any phenomenon, we must not use the 
extreme or abnormal cases as typical ones, but only as 
illustrating some factors of the normal type much magnified. 

The philosophical type of mysticism is best exemplified by 


1See a number of definitions, W. R. Inge, Christian Mysticism, 
Appendix A. 
* J. Moses, Pathological Aspects of Religions, pp. 69 and 72. 


MYSTICISM 23 


the mystics of India, who are heirs of centuries of profound 
thinking which has, however, been productive of a limited 
amount of bodily movement. We may say, also, that Chris- 
tian mysticism is hardly a native product, but has been 
derived chiefly from heathen sources. The Greek and 
other Neo-Platonists made the primary contribution, and 
later the influence of Eastern mysticism was felt. By this I 
do not mean that the New Testament shows no traces of 
mysticism: the contrary is the case. Jesus’ words are filled 
with mystical significance at times, and Paul and John were 
both mystics, the former telling us that he was caught up 
into the third heaven and heard things which he could not 
express in language. But we must also remember that Paul 
quotes mystical utterances from the Greeks, and his evident 
knowledge of Greek literature proved a source of mysticism 
in him. Paul and John, especially the latter, represent a 
more philosophical type of mysticism than Jesus, whose 
attitude was more plain and business-like. ‘It is conceded 
that Mark’s non-mystical picture of the Master is nearer the 
facts in point of time and contains less subjective coloring 
than that of John. The latter was a mystic theologian, who 
confessedly wrote his version of the gospel history in order 
to establish a doctrinal point of view.” * 

The endeavor of the human mind to grasp the divine source 
or the ultimate reality of things is the philosophical basis of 
mysticism. ‘‘Speculative mysticism has occupied __ itself 
largely with these two great subjects—the immanence of God 
in nature, and the relation of human personality to Divine. 
. . . The Unity of all existence is a fundamental doctrine of 
mysticism. God is in all and all is in God.” ? The point 
of departure for the philosophical mystic is the notion of 
being or unity, and so the immanence of God is the logical 


1G. A. Coe, The Religion of a Mature Mind, p. 191. 
2W. R. Inge, Christian Mysticism, p. 28. 


24 MYSTICISM 


conclusion. By means of the “oversoul” this immanence is 
discovered and utilized.’ 

We can well see how many mystics claimed to be and 
thought themselves to be pantheists, when all they really 
meant was that they believed in the immanence of God. 
With this, however, they also believed in the transcendence 
of God, and never lost the idea of personality. ‘‘We have to 
distinguish also between mysticism and pantheism. In pan- 
theism God is lost in the world, and is no longer related to it; 
he has no reality except in nature, and ceases to be self-related 
and to have consciousness. Now, religion implies some term 
of self. ‘Therefore, no religion is possible in real pantheism. 
When men say they are pantheists, they usually mean that 
they are mystics like Paul. For this mysticism there is per- 
haps no better formula than Schleiermacher’s sense of abso- 
lute dependence.” ‘‘We do not always distinguish as we 
ought between mysticism and pantheism. In the words 
themselves there is no reason why they should not carry 
the same meaning. . . . In mysticism is implied both the 
immanence and the transcendence of the divine being in 
the universe; in pantheism only the immanence. .. . If 
the leaves could be conscious of their relation to the tree, 
they would be to that extent mystics.” ” 

The pantheistic tendency is due to the sense of communion, 
presence, or unity with God. “Mysticism is subjective 
religion. It is religion seeking to emancipate itself from 
the tyranny of external media. It is religion bringing the 
soul into the immediate presence of God, and insisting on its 
right to live in immediate fellowship with Him. . . . It is 


1R. W. Emerson, The Oversoul (Essays); F. Granger, The Soul of a 
Christian, pp. 59 ff., 192 7f.; W. R. Inge, Christian Mysticism, pp. 
321 ff. 

* 2C. C. Everett, The Psychological Elements of Religious Faith, pp. 
74 and 169. 


MYSTICISM 25 


the very heart of religion.”’* By this union the soul is sup- 
posed to be freed from the body, and the aim of the mystic is 
to overcome all barriers between the individual and his God 
so as to become one with the Absolute and to be aware of this 
unity. In this state alone, thinks the mystic, the real nature 
of things may be known and supernatural objects may be con- 
templated. This sense of unity is obtained by a complete self- 
surrender on the part of the individual. 

“The mystical tendency in Clement of Alexandria, Origen, 
and even in the earlier and more devotional writings of 
Augustine, leads these writers to expressions which seem to 
imply such a surrender, by will, of the Egohood of man that 
he realizes the goal of religious aspiration by being lost or 
absorbed in the Infinite God. In the Middle Ages Scotus 
Erigena and others indulged in even more extreme views. 
Many passages, expressive of the same opinion, might be 
quoted from Master Eckhart and the other Christian Mystics 
of later times. Eckhart not only affirms, ‘Wherever I am 
there is God’—a declaration which, understood in a certain 
way, any pious soul might make; but he also declares that 
man’s perfection is to enter into the Ground which is ground- 
less; and of those who are born of the spirit, he says, that 
their Ego ‘dies away in the miracle of Godhood, for in the 
oneness with God it possesses no discrimination. ‘The per- 
sonal loses its name in oneness.’” ” 

“‘We have seen that in Schleiermacher’s view no divine 
attributes can be recognized except those which grow out of 
the relation of absolute dependence in which we stand 
toward God. In such a conception of religion there is little 
room for forms of worship. Little praise can be offered, no 
direct obedience is possible. We have only on the one hand 
mystery, as in the Unknowable of Spencer, the recognition of 


1L. O. Brastow, The Modern Pulpit, p. 11. 
2G. T. Ladd, Philosophy of Religion, I, p. 344. 


26 MYSTICISM 


that which cannot be formulated, and on the other hand 
mysticism, a recognition or sense of a community between 
the individual and the absolute life. This sense of com- 
munity between the human and the divine varies in form. 
It may be of the sort which underlies all profound, positive 
religion, the mysticism of Paul when he says, ‘In him we 
live and move and have our being,’ the mysticism which 
takes form in the doctrine of the Holy Spirit. This is the 
normal form of mysticism. Another sort results, abnormal 
and fantastic, when the individual life, believing itself one 
with the absolute life, assumes that its thoughts are the 
thoughts of God, and mistakes the vagaries of the imagination 
for divine revelation.” 

“The highest spiritual unity manifests itself under two 
aspects: first, externally, as the centre of the world; and 
secondly, and more profoundly, when it is conceived as 
immanent in the world. I have already spoken of this im- 
manent spiritual unity. We find it manifested in religious 
mysticism. ‘This mysticism, when normal, consists in the 
recognition of a certain community between the individual 
and the universe, between the finite spirit and the infinite 
spirit. It is manifested most profoundly in the doctrine of 
the Holy Spirit, which implies the interpenetration of the 
individual by the absolute spirit. In its abnormal form 
mysticism falls easily into pantheism. God is absorbed into 
the universe. The universal spirit has no consciousness, 
and, strictly speaking, human individuality is lost. Unity 
becomes exclusive, and the understanding has no place. In 
such abnormal mysticism the individual sometimes thinks 
it unnecessary to follow the laws of thought; he believes 
that he has direct intuitions of the truth. Conceiving him- 
self to be a manifestation of the universal life, he thinks that 
he can arrive at the structure of the universe, as truth in 
general, by consciousness. But this is lawless thought, 


MYSTICISM 27 


dreaming and not reasoning, the work of the fanciful 
mind,” * 

There are different degrees of this sense of unity. It may 
come simply as a sense of the presence of some other person.’ 
It may come in the silence of the night, during seasons of 
great trouble, or even in the turmoil of daily strife. It is 
difficult to define this experience psychologically, and some 
have confused it with the esthetic and other emotions. The 
sense of communion is seen best in the ordinary experience 
of prayer, when one has an immediate sense of the presence 
of God who hears him pray. It is said that St. Francis, 
during prayer, had such a sense of God’s presence that he 
could only repeat time after time, “My God! My God!” 
and no confession or request could be uttered by his lips. 

The mystic not only maintains the possibility of experien- 
cing the presence of God and having communion with Him, 
but God ceases to be an object of knowledge and belief and 
becomes a vital experience; nothing short of real union will 
satisfy. Mysticism is “the attempt to realize, in thought and 
feeling, the immanence of the temporal in the eternal, and of 
the eternal in the temporal.” ‘Complete union with God is 
the ideal limit of religion, the attainment of which would 
be at once its consummation and annihilation. It is in the 
continual but unending approximation to it that the life of 
religion consists.” * St. Teresa said, ‘“‘Sometimes, when I 
was reading, I came suddenly on a sense of the presence of 
God which did not allow me to doubt that He was within 
me and that I was entirely engulfed in Him.” Madame 
Guyon had a like experience. Ruysbroek said, ‘In this 


™C. C. Everett, The Psychological Elements of Religious Faith, pp. 
73}. and 167}. 

?W. James, Varieties of Religious Experience, pp. 59-68; J. B. Pratt, 
Psychology of Religious Belief, pp. 244 ff. 

?W. R. Inge, Christian Mysticism, pp. § and 12. 


28 MYSTICISM 


highest stage the soul is united to God without means; it 
sinks into the vast darkness of Godhead.” Bernard of 
Clairvaux said that the soul knows itself to be lost in God, 
“as the little drop of water when poured into a quantity of 
wine appears to surrender its own nature and takes on both 
the taste and color of the wine.”’ In these later days the mind- 
curers and so-called metaphysical healers have a feeling of 
oneness with the Absolute, and use this as the fundamental 
tenet in their teaching, and as the therapeutic principle in 
their healing. 

It is on account of this certainty of union with God that 
the experiences of the mystic seem so valuable to him. His 
attitude toward his own position is that of absolute certainty, 
and the evidence of his own feelings and own inner ex- 
perience is incontrovertible. He is sure he is right. On 
this account he is correspondingly intolerant of the opinions 
and position of others—he is equally sure they are wrong. 
The mystical states are always taken at their face value, 
and there is no evidence which can be adduced that can add 
to the certainty, and no data from which one can reason to 
lessen the immediate assurance of the experience. They are 
felt to be real, and that is most convincing. 

On account of this immediate certainty of the phenomena, 
the mystic cannot learn from others, but he must be led and 
taught by the Spirit. This usually gives him the privilege 
of reproving and finding fault with others who have not been 
so favored. He does not seem to realize that while the 
mystical truths which are vouchsafed to him during his 
transports are absolutely authoritative for him if he wishes 
so to consider them, they carry with them no authority which 
is at all binding upon others who do not care to accept them 
without careful examination. Examination does not tend to 
increase the number of followers, for there is no unanimity 
among mystics; their mysticism is their only bond. This 


MYSTICISM 29 


individuality and these peculiar characteristics which are 
attached to mystical revelation cause it to be more closely 
related to sensation than to conceptual thought. 

It is true that some of the mystics have had marvellous 
insight into spiritual things, and many of their works have 
been of great value in other respects. Swedenborg was not 
only a dreamer but a scientist,* and St. Teresa not only 
experienced visions but showed remarkable executive ability. 
Hegel thought that Jacob Bohme held an important place in 
both religion and philosophy. Apart from its epistemo- 
logical value, mysticism has had a practical side. ‘ Mys- 
ticism consists primarily in a mode of life, and then in a mode 
of reflection. . . . It isa mode of life which is governed not 
by the isolated promptings of instinct at first or even at 
second hand, but by an ideal. Hence, so far as religious 
life consists only in obedience to externally imposed rules of 
conduct and belief, it is not yet mystical. And it only be- 
comes mystical when the objects of conduct and belief are 
stated in the terms of the spiritual experience, an experience 
which is made our own.”* ‘“‘Self-surrender appears in two 
forms. The first, the mystical, is found in Brahmanism and 
in the Christianity of the mystics; we see it in Paul, and in 
Schleiermacher’s sense of absolute dependence. In the 
second, the ethical form, the individual gives himself up, not 
simply to the spirit of obedience, but to the actual doing of 
the will of God in whatever direction one is led.” ° 

“Tn full maturity the rational and the mystical dwell to- 
gether in the same spirit, but ever so that the latter is under- 
girded and guided by the former. There is a lofty mys- 
ticism, chastened by the critical habit, of which one may 
speak only with the deepest respect. It was a quality of 


1W. White, Life of Emanuel Swedenborg. 
*F, Granger, The Soul of a Christian, p. 292. 
?C. C. Everett, The Psychological Elements of Religious Faith, p. 115. 


30 MYSTICISM 


Beecher, of Brooks, of Martineau, and of those terrible 
mystics, the Puritans. The practical reason was strong in 
these men, but nevertheless they refused to shut themselves 
up to a testimony of the senses. They possessed and they 
cultivated an inner consciousness of things which eye had not 
seen nor ear heard. ‘This perfect fusing of the two chief 
mental traits in the same nature is the real climax of mind. 
If either be bred out or atrophied, there is something lacking 
which the courses of mental evolution should have made 
permanent in a man.” * 

The above quotations reveal the really useful phase of the 
mystic life. They show, what we have already contended, 
that mysticism is a varied experience. While there are many 
mystics whose religion amounts to nothing more than a pallid, 
sickly emotionalism, being of no use to themselves or others, 
ten thousand of whom would not be missed according to our 
ideas of religion to-day, there are others whose experience 
has served as a stimulus to valuable work and asa dynamo 
to indefatigable energy. With the most practical, however, 
there is an undercurrent of weakness. Professor James’ 
valuable analysis of St. Teresa, the most zealous of the Span- 
ish mystics, who excelled in energy and industry, points this 
out. Listen to what he says: “Take Saint Teresa, ... 
one of the ablest women, in many respects, of whose life we 
have the record. She had a powerful intellect of the prac- 
tical order. She wrote admirable descriptive psychology, 
possessed a will equal to any emergency, great talent for 
politics and business, a buoyant disposition, and a first-rate 
literary style. She was tenaciously aspiring, and put her 
whole life at the service of her religious ideals. Yet so 
paltry were these, according to our present way of thinking, 
that (although I know that others have been moved differ- 
ently) I confess that my only feeling in reading her has been 

‘F. M. Davenport, Primitive Tratts in Religious Revivals, p. 281. 


MYSTICISM VP ORT 


pity that so much vitality of soul should have found such 
poor employment.” * 

As a matter of fact, real insight, clearer intellectual vision, 
strengthened moral purpose, and many valuable suggestions 
have come as a product of the mystical consciousness. A 
false division has come between certain classes of mystics, 
however, and the rock upon which they have split is the 
question concerning the comparative value of two systems of 
acquiring knowledge. Can more be learned concerning God 
by a close observation of the world around us, by a study of 
nature and our fellow-men, or by withdrawing into our inner 
consciousness and seeking direct communion with God? Of 
course the answer obviously is, do both; one must not be 
emphasized at the expense of the other, but they work to- 
gether, one is complementary to the other. God speaks in 
both ways, and we only get His complete message by listening 
to both utterances. One of the articles of faith in mysticism 
is that the soul can see and perceive if man partakes of the 
divine nature as far as possible, and this seems to be par- 
tially, at least, carried out in fact. 

There are three rounds in the mystical ladder: first, the 
purgative life; second, the illuminative life; and third, unitive 
life, or state of perfect contemplation. The latter step is 
considered by some the goal rather than a part of the proc- 
ess. Although there are other classifications, this scheme is 
the basis of all. The perfection of attainment is found in 
the “negative way.’ In this, because God is infinite, no 
finite qualities can be attributed to Him, and He can only be 
described in negatives; and, further, the only way in which 
God can be known is to sink the self into nothingness, close 
the door of the senses, insist on an absence of definite, sen- 
sible images, cease all thought, and approach God by ab- 


1W. James, The Varieties of Religious Experience, pp. 346 ff. The 
quotation might have been longer with additional profit. 


32 MYSTICISM 


straction. The self must be transcended, and all reason 
must be abandoned, faith being the antithesis of reason, not 
of sight. This condition is known by some mystics as 
“the state of death.” * 

Many artificial means were used to attain this transcendent 
state, and often, although not always, it was a state of ecstasy 
which was sought. Most mystics had a definitely formu- 
lated and systematic procedure. Some had printed rules, 
but these, the mystic affirmed, were only for beginners, the 
advanced mystic soon progressed beyond them. Some used 
physical aids and had rules concerning the breath and 
ascetic practices to weaken bodily impulses. ‘The senses 
were suppressed and desires were held in abeyance. Con- 
templation was enjoined, by which means the ego was to 
be forgotten and must sink into nothingness in order to attain 
to the glory and pleasure of the one emotional experience. 
The whole secret of attainment was in absolute passivity: 
no active endeavor could be put forth, but patient waiting 
in a state of emptiness was necessary.” 

Dionysius the Areopagite, the father of Christian mys- 
ticism, leaves the following instructions: ‘‘But thou, O dear 
Timothy, by thy persistent commerce with the mystic visions, 
leave behind sensible perceptions and intellectual efforts, and 
all objects of sense and of intelligence, and all things being 
and not being, and be raised aloft unknowingly to the union, 
as far as attainable with Him Who is above every essence and 
knowledge. For by the resistless and absolute ecstasy in all 
purity, from thyself and all thou wilt be carried on high to 
the superessential ray of the divine darkness, when thou hast 
cast away all and become free from all.” 

This goal and method are more characteristic of the 


1 J. H. Leuba, ‘The State of Death: An Instance of Internal Adapta- 
tion,’ American Journal of Psychology, Commemorative Number, 1903. 
? J. B. Pratt, Psychology of Religious Belief, pp. 103-106, 154-160. 


MYSTICISM 33 


lonely, early mystic who could only see God when the eye of 
sense was closed; the more modern mystic saw God in 
everything: he recognized “the spiritual law in the natural 
world.” Many of the practices by which this state was 
artificially produced were not necessary: ascetic habits 
and the maltreatment of the body were not a true part of 
mysticism. Protestants have abandoned all artificial means 
of elevating the soul except by prayer, but the mind- 
curers have reintroduced them. The expulsion of the outer 
sensations which interfere with concentration upon ideal 
things is the first aim, and this is accomplished by passive 
relaxation, concentration, meditation, and auto-hypnosis. 
At first holy scenes may be imagined, but in the highest 
raptures images are eliminated, and therefore no description 
can be given of this highest state.’ 

The keynote of all the mysteries of God is found in the 
word, love. Joy and intense love are common character- 
istics of mysticism. The description of love is made to 
include much not normally in it, and rapture and passion 
are known by this name. “Love unites the soul to God, 
and the more degrees of love the soul holds, so much the 
more deeply does it enter into God, and is concentrated into 
Him.” ? From this it can be seen that the experience, which 
may start with and in love, ends by going far in excess of any 
normal experience of love. The following canticle composed 
by St. Francis of Assisi shows the same characteristics: 


“Into love’s furnace IJ am cast 
Into love’s furnace I am cast; 
I burn, I languish, pine, and waste. 
O love divine, how sharp thy dart! 
How deep the wound that galls my heart! 
As wax in heat, so, from above 


1W. James, The Varieties of Religious Experience, pp. 406 ff. 
7St. John of the Cross, Living Flame of Love, verse 1. 


34 MYSTICISM 


My smitten soul dissolves in love. 
I live, yet languishing I die, 
While in thy furnace bound I lie. 


In love’s sweet swoon to thee I cleave, 
Bless’d source of love. 


Love’s slave, in chains of strong desire 
I’m bound. 


Grant, O my God, who diedst for me, 

I, sinful wretch, may die for thee 

Of love’s deep wounds; love to embrace, 
To swim in its sweet sea; thy face 

To see; then, joined with thee above, 
Shall I myself pass into love.” ? 


This all-embracing love has its prototype in the consuming 
passion of the lover for his mistress, when all his thoughts, 
desires, and actions centre around her. In fact, some of the 
great saints have seemingly made a mistake in the character 
of their love, and carried on ‘‘an endless amatory flirtation” 
with the Deity. Others have juggled with the word love so 
as to make it mean everything and therefore nothing. As 
an example, look at a quotation from a modern Eastern 
writer: ‘‘The Sermon on the Mount is a series of lessons on 
Love culture or Soul culture, for Love is another word for 
Soul.” ? Of course, when once one begins to make mystical 
and symbolic interpretations of words and things, there is no 
dividing line, and white may be another name for black, and 
black for white. Contradiction is impossible under such a 
scheme, and each one is a law unto himself. The high 
emotional tension under certain experiences of love causes 


‘ Quoted by G. A. Coe, The Spiritual Life, p. 210. 
*P. Ramanathan, The Culture of the Soul among Western Nations, 
p. 220. 


MYSTICISM 35 


love to be the chief factor of the mystic’s experience, and 
other highly emotional states receive this designation. 

Every one cannot be a thorough-going mystic, although 
there must be some mystical elements in every form of 
religion. In common with other forms of religious expres- 
sion it is a matter of temperament, and in the mystics the 
melancholic and sanguine temperaments predominate. In 
churches to-day we see many honest persons seeking the 
mystical experiences of which they have heard others speak, 
but on account of a lack of suggestibility and an inhar- 
monious temperament they are unable to obtain them; some 
even fear to unite with a church, for they know that they will 
be unable to have some of the experiences which they expect 
will be demanded of them. This type of character which 
allies itself to mysticism is passive, sensuous, and essentially 
feminine, while the independent, masculine, and ethically 
vigorous persons find it difficult or impossible to experience 
these things if they wish, and they are not liable to desire 
them. In those persons who are temperamentally suscep- 
tible, there is an abnormal expansion of consciousness in 
which the subject is not able to distinguish between himself 
and the larger life into which he seems to have dissolved, 
and hence he has the feeling of unity with the Absolute. 

Some mystics are essentially lonely and selfish, for they 
are busy with their personal experiences rather than with the 
world around them. Perhaps we might, however, like John 
of Ruysbroek, make a distinction between what he called 
true and false mystics. He said that some false mystics mis- 
took laziness for holy abstraction, others thought that nothing 
was denied them, and a third class considered all impulses 
divine, and hence repudiated all responsibility. ‘The mystics 
do not look for a development of the whole man, but, casting 
aside reason, and if possible consciousness, develop one part 
of the mind, and they, more than any others, try to dis- 


36 MYSTICISM 


entangle the ‘‘religious faculty” from the baser parts of the 
mind—a task, as I have tried to show, as impossible as un- 
desirable. ‘The influence of the subconsciousness in mys- 
ticism is very marked. This dreamy other-selfness, so char- 
acteristic of the mystic, is subconscious in character, and the 
various accessories of mysticism, ecstasy, visions, dreams, 
etc., we shall see when we come to examine them, have a 
large subconscious factor. 

Notwithstanding the excesses and mistakes, mysticism en- 
riches our religion and continually renews it by personal 
experiences, which cannot be denied or explained away, and 
by its optimistic attitude leads the world onward with an in- 
creasing faith. ‘The desire to be in harmony with the divine 
will, which is an integral part of mysticism, inspires the true 
mystic to an ethical and practical religious life which shows 
itself in altruistic deeds.’ 


1 J. H. Leuba, “‘Tendances fondamentales des mystiques chrétiens,” 
Revue Philosophique, LIX, pp. 1-36, 441-487. 


CHAPTER IV 
ECSTASY 


“This is the very ecstasy of love, 
Whose violent property foredoes itself.” —SHAKESPEARE. 


THE phenomena of ecstasy have had a marvellous influence 
upon the history of mankind. They have inspired the 
founding of religions, both enriched and degraded religions 
already founded, robbed painful death of its terrors, and 
changed a peasant girl into a military hero beloved and 
trusted by her friends and feared and hated by her enemies. 
Ecstasy has been especially prominent in religion, and is 
common to all forms. It is unique in this, for I believe there 
are no other phenomena of which this can be predicated, at 
least to the same extent. Religious ideas, however, do not 
always provide pabulum for ecstatic states, but any object 
much desired, it matters little how trivial or grotesque it may 
be, may become the object of ecstasy. Nor are religious 
ascetics and thinkers alone the subjects; artists, philosophers, 
and other one-ideaed persons are liable to have this ex- 
perience. While usually connected with mysticism, ecstasy 
and kindred states are not an integral part of it. 

The general characteristics of the.ecstatic state are con- 
centration of attention on one dominant idea or object, the 
loss of normal self-control, insensibility to external impres- 
sions, and intense emotional excitement. It is manifested in 
various ways and with varying degrees of intensity. In some 
cases overpowering joy or grief is expressed, while in others 

37 


38 ECSTASY 


the subject is seized by a temporary frenzy closely resembling 
mania. Some ecstatics are mute and motionless, the body 
rigid and insensible to external impressions to such a degree 
that general sensibility is extinct; no contact is felt, and 
neither pricking with pins nor burning with fire causes pain. 
There is also a suspension of other sensory activity: no 
sounds are heard, except in some cases the voice “of one 
person, and the eyes, although open, do not see. These 
symptoms with the apparent unconsciousness resemble very 
much those of the cataleptic state. ‘There are, however, two 
points of difference: contrary to appearances, consciousness 
is not lacking, and there is subsequent memory of events or 
visions experienced while in this state. Quite as often there 
is violent emotional excitement which manifests itself in 
impassioned words or songs, some of which are intelligible, 
as the ecstatic describes his visions, others not; his phy- 
siognomy may be expressive, and extravagant gesticulations 
and movements of the body take place, although he may not 
move from his position. 

Ecstatic visions and hallucinations are almost mvariably 
of an agreeable nature, and the subject regrets the short 
duration of his happiness. ‘The spirit is supposed to leave 
the body and frequently to come in contact with God or with 
Jesus or with the Virgin. Such have been the experiences 
of many of the saints. Much less frequently the ecstatic 
experiences temptations from the devil. 

At times this disorder is highly contagious and readily 
spreads by suggestion and imitation. In the Middle Ages, 
widespread epidemics, leading to the most extravagant 
actions in large numbers, were experienced. Contagious 
ecstasy was not, however, confined to this time, but all through 
the centuries and even at the present time we find startling 
exhibitions of this phenomenon. The Dancing Mania of the 
last part of the fourteenth century and the Convulsionaries 


ECSTASY 39 


of the first part of the eighteenth century are pertinent 
examples of contagious ecstasy. * 

Resignation, almost to ecstasy, is shown by certain of the 
saints, and we may trace the condition from this point 
through various stages until we reach that of complete in- 
sensibility to all external impressions. Madame Guyon, 
frail as she was physically, manifested a spiritual absorption 
which laughed at physical danger. She writes: ‘We all of 
us came near perishing in a river which we found it necessary 
to pass. The carriage sank in the quicksand. Others who 
were with us threw themselves out in excessive fright. But 
I found my thoughts so much taken up with God that I had 
no distinct sense of danger. It is true that the thought of 
being drowned passed across my mind, but it caused no other 
sensation or reflection in me than this—that I felt quite con- 
tented and willing it were so, if it were my heavenly Father’s 
choice.” Sailing from Nice to Genoa, a storm kept her 
eleven days at sea, of which she writes, “As the irritated 
waves dashed round us I could not help experiencing a cer- 
tain degree of satisfaction in my mind. I pleased myself with 
thinking that those mutinous billows, under the command 
of Him who does all things rightly, might probably furnish 
me with a watery grave. Perhaps I carried the point too far, 
in the pleasure which I took in thus seeing myself beaten and 
bandied by the swelling waters. Those who were with me 
took notice of my intrepidity.” ? 

St. Teresa affirms a similar effect of ecstasy on both men- 
tal and physical conditions. From her autobiography we 
have the following: ‘‘Often, infirm and wrought upon with 
dreadful pains before the ecstasy, the soul emerges from it 
full of health and admirably disposed for action . . . as if 
God had willed that the body itself, already obedient to the 


1For an account of these phenomena, see Chaps. XII and XIII. 
2W. James, The Varieties of Religious Experience, p. 287. 


40 ECSTASY 


soul’s desires, should share in the soul’s happiness. .. . 
The soul after such a favor is animated with a degree of 
courage so great that if at that moment its body should be 
torn to pieces for the cause of God, it would feel nothing but 
the liveliest comfort.” * 

The insensibility to external impressions has been shown 
by the total disregard and contempt for physical suffering. 
Queen Jezebel’s priests mutilated themselves on Mount 
Carmel some centuries before the Christian era, medieval 
saints subjected themselves to unique and severe torture 
which seemed to produce joy rather than pain, and Der- 
vishes hurled themselves on the bayonets of British soldiers 
in the Soudan, seeing only paradise for those who thus 
sacrificed themselves. Undoubtedly many martyrs, burned 
at the stake or stoned to death, have been spared the suffering 
which was intended for them and which seemed inevitable, by 
some form of ecstasy.” Blanche Gamond, a Huguenot wo- 
man persecuted under Louis XIV, exhibited a splendid scorn 
for torture. She writes concerning her experience as follows: 

“They shut all the doors and I saw six women, each with 
a bunch of willow rods as thick as the hand could hold, and 
a yard long. He gave me the order, ‘Undress yourself,’ 
which I did. He said, ‘You are leaving on your shift; you 
must take it off.’ They had so little patience that they took 
it off themselves, and I was naked from the waist up. They 
brought a cord with which they tied me to a beam in the 
kitchen. They drew the cord tight with all their strength 
and asked me, ‘ Does it hurt you?’ and then they discharged 
their fury upon me, exclaiming as they struck me, ‘Pray now 
to your God.’ It was the Roulette woman who held this 


1W. James, The Varieties of Religious Experience, p. 414. 
2S. Baring-Gould, Virgin Saints and Martyrs, pp. 16 7ff.; G. L. Ray- 
mond, The Psychology of Inspiration, p. 239; I. Taylor, Fanaticism, 


p. 81 }. 


ECSTASY 4I 


language. But at this moment I received the greatest con- 
solation that I can ever receive in my life, since I had the 
honor of being whipped for the name of Christ, and in addi- 
tion of being crowned with his mercy and his consolations. 
Why can I not write down the inconceivable influences, con- 
solations, and peace which I felt interiorly? ‘To understand 
them one must have passed by the same trial; they were so 
great that I was ravished, for there where afflictions abound, 
grace is given superabundantly. In vain the women cried, 
‘We must double our blows; she does not feel them, for she 
neither speaks nor cries.’ And how should I have cried, 
since I was swooning with happiness within?” * 

Of Blandina, a maiden martyr of the second century, it is 
recorded: ‘After she had endured stripes, the tearing of 
beasts, and the iron chair, she was enclosed in a net, and 
thrown to a bull; and, having been tossed for some time by 
the animal, and being quite superior to her pain, through the 
influence of hope, and the realizing view of the objects of her 
faith and her fellowship with Christ, she at length breathed 
her soul.’’ Stephen’s face shone like that of an angel while 
he received the stones from the enraged multitude; Rogers, 
a fellow-worker with Tyndale, died bathing his hands in the 
flame as though it were cold water; and Lawrence, a deacon 
of Rome, was laid upon a gridiron; with a smile, he said, 
*‘Turn me, I am roasted on one side,” and died without a 
cry or moan of pain, as calmly as if lying on a bed of down. 

Most of the saints revelled in ecstasy, and some were quite 
intemperate in their indulgence. It is said that St. Francis 
of Assisi, who partook of the communion frequently, usu- 
ally did so with ecstasies in which his soul was absorbed in 
the Infinite. Often, also, when praying, he fell into raptures. 
His contemplation of the sufferings of Christ, which was the 
occasion of his stigmata, brought on weeping so copious as 

*W. James, The Varieties of Religious Experience, pp. 288 jf. 


42 ECSTASY 


to ruin his eyes. But, as mentioned above, ecstasy was not 
always of a strictly religious character. As an example of 
the artistic type, it is said that Michelangelo, at sixty years, 
attacked marbles, knocking off more chips in two hours than 
younger and stronger men could in three or four, such was 
his impetuosity and fury in his work.’ 

The predisposing cause of ecstasy may be either natural 
or artificial; the exciting causes are manifold. There are 
some persons who are constitutionally liable to ecstatic 
states; these are usually of a nervous or hysterical nature. 
Add to this, absorbing contemplation upon or intense long- 
ing for some object, and conditions are ripe for ecstasy. 
Except in the contagious form which is liable to lay claim to 
any one, energy must be concentrated on one idea, and this 
idea must engross the whole consciousness. ‘‘The chief rule 
for gaining this highest stage of mystic knowledge is, there- 
fore, not to try to gain it. You guide yourself toward it best 
by ceasing to guide yourself at all. Thought and will are 
only a hindrance. . . . Those mystics who have the most 
elaborate methods of inducing the ecstatic condition are the 
ones who most strongly insist upon its independence of human 
will and human effort. . . . Absolute passivity is the condi- 
tion of receiving it.’* St. Teresa had four degrees of 
prayer, the fourth of which was that of Rapture or Ecstasy.* 
“This state is the most privileged, because the most un- 
natural of all. The bodily as well as mental powers are 
sunk in a divine stupor. You can make no resistance, as 
you may possibly, to some extent, in the Prayer of the Union. 
On a sudden your breath and strength begin to fail; the 
eyes are involuntarily closed, or, if open, cannot distinguish 
surrounding objects; the hands are rigid; the whole body cold.” 


1F. Granger, The Soul of a Christian, p. 200 f. 
#J. B. Pratt, The Psychology of Religious Belie}, p. 160. 
*R. A. Vaughan, Hours with the Mystics, I, p. 168 }. 


ECSTASY 43 


Both the religious and philosophical literature of the 
Orient, and especially is this true of India, abound in pas- 
sages, extracts from which would form a working manual for 
the artificial attainment of ecstasy. Some of the suggestions 
given are as follows: keep perfectly quiet; fix the gaze on 
the sky, a bright object, the end of the nose, or the navel; 
repeat a certain monosyllable while the Supreme Being is 
contemplated; retard the respiration; and refrain from 
thinking of either time or place.’ Some strongly volitional 
individuals do not need these aids, but, indirectly, by a 
simple act of will they are able to exclude other things, and 
thereby throw themselves into ecstasy. Now, any one famil- 
iar with hypnosis will readily recognize that these methods 
are exactly what might be suggested to bring about auto- 
hypnosis. 

Among some of the more primitive people and nations of 
antiquity, more crass methods were in use, such as the beat- 
ing of magic drums, blowing of trumpets, continued howling, 
exhausting supplication to Deity, convulsive movements and 
contortions, dancing, flagellation, fasting, and sexual con- 
tinence. I Samuel 10:5. seems to indicate that musical 
instruments were used for this purpose among the early 
Hebrews. Dervishes acquire an ecstatic state by dancing, 
whirling, and howling, and thereby become insensible even 
to severe wounds. ‘They run pointed iron and sharp knives 
into their heads, eyes, necks, and breasts, without injuring 
themselves.” ? The Greeks used dancing almost exclusively 
as the agent. 

In addition to these psychical and physical means, nar- 
cotics are used to bring about the desired results. The in- 
habitants of Tunguska, western Siberia, use the fly agaric, 
a mushroom produced plentifully in that section; those of 


1T. Ribot, The Diseases of the Will, p. 94 f. 
2A. Moll, Hypnotism, p. 42. 


44 ECSTASY 


San Domingo, the herb coca. Some tribes of American 
Indians have recourse to tobacco, and in the East, opium and 
haschisch are employed. Among the ancient Egyptians, in- 
toxicating drinks were used, and medieval times have con- 
tributed receipts for witch salves and philtres.’ 

The following case is a modern one; and shows some of 
the characteristics already described. ‘‘Dr. Brown-Séquard 
relates a remarkable case of ecstatic catalepsy in a girl whom 
he was called in to see. She lived in Paris, close to the 
Church of St. Sulpice, and every Sunday morning at eight 
o’clock, when the bell began to ring, she used at once to 
rise from her bed, mount the edge of the bedstead, and stand 
there on tip-toe until the bell sounded at eight in the evening, 
when she returned to her bed. The board on which she stood 
was curved and polished, and it would have been impossible 
for the most athletic man to have remained on it in such a 
position for more than a few minutes at a time. While 
standing there, she was utterly unconscious of her surround- 
ings, and continued murmuring prayers to the Virgin all the 
time, her hands clasped, her eyes fixed, and head slightly 
bent. Some of the bystanders were sceptical, and Dr. 
Brown-Séquard, to put her to the test, applied a strong, in- 
terrupted current to her face. She showed no signs of pain; 
but the muscles reacted energetically, and her intonation was 
therefore slightly affected. The girl was weak and anemic, 
and was so thoroughly exhausted by her Sunday exertions, 
that the remainder of the week she could only lie helpless in 
her bed. The enormous increase in muscular and nervous 
force in one direction (dynamogenesis) was accompanied, as 
is invariably the case, by inhibition of other functions—in this 
case, those of higher cerebration.’’? 

Similar to the allied phenomena of trance and catalepsy, 


1E. Parish, Hallucinations and Illusions, p. 40. 
?C. L. Tuckey, Treatment by Hypnotism and Suggestion, p. 14 f. 


ECSTASY 45 


it is generally agreed that ecstasy is more frequent in women 
than in men, and with few exceptions the former have had 
the most remarkable experiences. Why ecstasy should take 
a religious coloring in persons otherwise indifferent to religion 
is not easy to explain. One explanation has been given. 
Religion is deeply rooted in the child mind, even if disregarded 
later, and in hysterical and somnambulistic attacks it has 
been noticed that early ideas play a leading part. Except 
when the vision is related at the time, what the ecstatic ex- 
periences he alone can tell. Fortunately he retains a dis- 
tinct recollection of it when he awakes, else outsiders could 
only surmise concerning it. 

There seem to be two distinct forms of ecstasy. The one 
is characterized by wild excitement, loss of all self-control, 
and temporary madness. It is “‘a sort of religious intoxica- 
tion indulged in largely for its delightful effects.” This 
usually originates in dancing and other forms of physical 
manifestations. The other type is intense, but quiet and 
calm; it is usually spontaneous in origin, or else comes 
through mental rather than physical means. A certain 
amount of culture is necessary in persons experiencing this, 
and it shows itself in solitude rather than before a crowd, as 
the other form does. The former type is seen among the 
Dervishes and medicine men, the latter among the Hebrew 
Prophets and Indian mystics.” In both cases “reason dies 
in giving birth to ecstasy, as Rachel died in giving birth to 
Benjamin.” 

There are a number of states which are very similar to 
ecstasy, so similar as to be indistinguishable at times. These 
are hysteria, catalepsy, hypnosis, autohypnosis, spontaneous 
somnambulism, and trance. The distinction of memory 
separates it from hypnosis, but when we recall that the events 


1H. Ellis, Man and Woman, p. 261. 
* J. B. Pratt, The Psychology of Religious Belief, pp. 99 and 147. 


46 ECSTASY 


which take place during hypnosis are remembered when a 
suggestion is made to that effect, autosuggestion may account 
for memory in ecstasy. The devotees of certain religions or 
sects are undoubtedly hypnotized by their priests before 
practising their rites, and in other cases autohypnosis is 
apparent. The conditions surrounding the cases cannot 
always be classed under hypnosis, however, although they 
are similar. Especially when religion is the controlling 
thought in these cases, the distinction between them is quite 
marked. I recognize that the tendency of to-day is differ- 
entiation and division, yet I believe this discussion may be 
carried on more profitably by our widening the contents of 
the term “‘ecstasy,’’ as it will be noticed I have already done, 
and including in it many of the phenomena of autohypnosis 
and hysteria where they are concerned with religion. Ec- 
stasy may be clearly distinguished from most mobile states, 
as, €. g., epilepsy, chorea, and convulsions. 

‘To the medical mind these ecstasies signify nothing but 
suggested and imitated hypnoid states, on an intellectual basis 
of superstition, and a corporeal one of degeneration and 
hysteria. . . . Their fruits have been various. Stupefac- 
tion, for one thing, seems not to have been altogether absent 
asaresult . . . but in natively strong minds and characters 
we find quite opposite results. The great Spanish mystics, 
who carried the habit of ecstasy as far as it has often been 
carried, appear for the most part to have shown indomitable 
spirit and energy, and all the more so for the trances in which 
they indulged.” * As a disease, ecstasy is not important, for 
while medical remedies may sometimes be used to advantage, 
moral influences judiciously exercised are more efficacious. 

One writer’ finds the psychology of ecstasy simple, con- 
sisting as it does of two principal factors. The first is that 


1W. James, The Varieties of Religious Experience, p. 413. 
*T. Ribot, The Psychology of the Emotions, p. 326. 


ECSTASY 47 


to which we have already referred, the restriction of the area 
of consciousness to one intense idea serving as the centre of 
association, and the second, the emotional state of rapture. 
Rapture is defined as a form of love in its highest degree, with 
desire and the pleasure of possession, which, like profane 
love, only finds its end in complete fusion and unification. 
The great mystics leave us in no doubt on this latter point, 
even though their declarations may be veiled in metaphors; 
and their critics, of all classes, have frequently, with much 
justice, reproached them with being mistaken in the nature 
of their love. But we must add another factor, viz., the 
activity of the subconsciousness. While the subject is suff- 
ciently under the control of consciousness to remember his 
experiences when he awakes, it is evident from phenomena 
like glossolalia and visions, that the subconsciousness plays a 
large part in the process. ‘The intensity of the one-absorbing 
state of consciousness is such as to attenuate and enfeeble 
the other conscious states, and while these still remain in 
connection with the primary state, they give the subcon- 
sciousness an opportunity to assert itself and push into con- 
sciousness. 

The foregoing has been an attempt to give a general 
description of ecstasy. It remains now to speak of various 
ecstatic phenomena more in detail, and such will be done in 
the following chapters. It may be well at this point to call 
attention to one thing to prevent misinterpretation. There 
is nothing good or bad in ecstasy in itself. In times past it 
has been adjudged as the condition of sainthood, or the work 
of the devil, by the subject’s friends and enemies, respectively. 
We must escape this error. In these days we do not consider 
everything mysterious to be of divine origin, and everything 
common to be separated from the hand of God; this distinc- 
tion is obsolete. On the other hand, we should not esteem 
abnormal phenomena worthless. Simply classifying any 


48 ECSTASY 


experience of to-day or in New Testament times under the 
head of ecstasy is neither condemning nor extolling it. We 
believe in the revelation of God through the higher faculties 
to-day; that does not mean that we ignore what may come 
to us in these abnormal states. We must judge the gift, 
not by the name of the horse which drew it, but by its value 
after we receive it. With this clear before us, let us turn our 
attention to certain ecstatic phenomena. 


CHAPTER V 
GLOSSOLALIA 


“His speech was like a tangled chain; nothing impaired but all dis- 
ordered.””—SHAKESPEARE. 


WHAT is meant by the phenomenon ‘speaking with 
tongues” is not clear to us to-day, and evidently, if we can 
judge by the different New Testament accounts, in the first 
century there was no unanimity of opinion concerning either 
the value or the definition of the marvel. The general under- 
standing of this term is that taken from a superficial reading 
of the second chapter of The Acts of the Apostles, viz., that 
illiterate Galileans spoke in many different foreign languages 
without previous training. St. Chrysostom and St. Augustine 
insisted that ‘‘the miracle of Pentecost is the antithesis of 
the confusion of tongues at Babel. There the one language 
had been divided into many; here the many languages were 
united in one man.” ‘There is not the slightest evidence for 
this. The hearers were expressly designated as Jews, and 
the enumeration given was not of languages but of countries. 
The most that can possibly be taken from this account, as 
far as the apostles are concerned, is that the differences of 
dialect, of Greek or Aramaic, were eliminated, and the won- 
der is that this should be so when the speakers. were Galileans, 
who would naturally be supposed to have such a pronounced 
dialect." 


1A. Robertson, ‘Tongues, Gift of,’ Hastings’ Bzble Dictionary, IV, 
pp. 793 ff-; see also J. Denney, “ Holy Spirit,” Hastings’ Dictionary 
of Christ and the Gospels, I, p. 737; T. Nicol, “Pentecost,” Jbzd., II, 
P- 333+ 

49 


50 GLOSSOLALIA 


A more careful reading of the passage will show that Luke 
seems to affirm that the miracle did not lie in the tongues of 
the speakers, but in the ears of the hearers. One prominent 
modern historian * has accepted this view. He thinks that 
although the apostles spoke in unintelligible ecstatic utter- 
ances, the Spirit interpreted to those present, each one of 
whom thought he heard in his own language. Certainly the 
claim that the apostles received this gift so as to enable them, 
unlettered as they were, to speak to the different nations to 
which they had been sent, does not seem to be a valid one, 
for we never hear of their using it in missionary work, and 
the prevalence of the Greek language made this entirely 
unnecessary. Peter does not refer to the use of a foreign 
language when he defends the disciples on a charge of 
drunkenness, although that would have been a valuable 
argument. 

One commentator ” goes so far as to say that ‘‘the sudden 
communication of a faculty of speaking foreign languages is 
neither logically possible nor psychologically and morally 
conceivable.”” Luke does not even seem to be consistent 
with himself, for in the two other references to glossolalia he 
evidently refers to the same phenomena which Paul describes. 
It has been suggested that perhaps the glamour surrounding 
the early church and the influence of the attendant wonders 
—the wind and the tongues of fire—account for his mis- 
understanding of the first appearance of this gift. 

Paul’s reference to tongues in the fourteenth chapter of 
First Corinthians is very different from Luke’s description 
of the Pentecostal experience. It is evident that he consid- 
ered the gift of tongues for use in worship by the individual, 
or for his own edification, and not for the instruction of the 
hearers, for the latter could not understand these utterances 


1P. Schaff, History of the Christian Church, I, p. 60. 
*H. A. W. Meyer, Commentary on Acts, 2:4. 


GLOSSOLALIA SI 


without an interpreter. In his enumeration of spiritual gifts 
in the twelfth chapter of First Corinthians, he puts tongues 
in the last place. ‘‘Though they might speak with the 
tongues of men and of angels, if they were without that love 
which does not behave itself unseemly, they were only sound- 
ing brass or a clanging cymbal.” He compares the gift of 
tongues to the notes of a pipe or harp, without distinction of 
sounds, and goes so far as to say that he would rather speak 
five words with his understanding that he might instruct 
others than ten thousand words in a tongue. In his ex- 
perience, people were not hearing in their own languages, 
but just the opposite; no one could understand a word. 
Paul’s description of the gift has been thus epitomized: 
“It was evidently frenzied or ecstatic utterances of sounds 
ordinarily unintelligible both to speakers and to hearers, 
except such as might be endowed by the Holy Spirit with a 
special gift of interpretation. The speaker was supposed to 
be completely under the control of the Spirit, to be a mere 
passive instrument in His hands, and to be moved and 
played upon by Him. His utterances were not his own, 
but the utterances of the Spirit, and he was commonly entirely 
unconscious of what he was saying.”’* ‘The gift was con- 
sidered most spiritual because the speaker had less control 
of himself, but its real value must: be computed by its worth 
to others. Although it was the most showy of all gifts, it 
was of little value and must not be exercised, said the apostle, 
unless an interpreter were present. The words were divine 
and not human, and had evidently no relation to any human 
tongue, so that the speaker was thought to be demented. It 
is really a high testimony to Paul’s common sense, mystic as 
he was, that in those days, when every one extolled the 
abnormal and regarded it as “spiritual,” he had sufficient 
perspicacity to determine the insignificant value of glossolalia. 
1A. C. McGiffert, The Apostolic Age, p. 50}. 


52 GLOSSOLALIA 


Had the gift of tongues changed in character within half a 
century, were there two different phenomena included under 
the same term, or was either Luke or Paul mistaken in his 
description ? 

The generally accepted modern view of this phenomenon 
is that it was ecstatic, and the result of the dominance of the 
lower brain-centres under great excitement, which caused a 
lack of self-control. It was especially to be seen among 
ignorant and highly excitable individuals, as an expression 
of joy and gladness. ‘The subjects are, usually, devout but 
unlearned and ignorant people who lack power of expression 
of the emotions which crowd upon them in seasons of great 
religious excitement. Under the pressure of overwrought 
mental condition, rational control takes its flight, and the 
overheated brain breaks forth in articulations more or less 
unconscious, including odds and ends of languages and 
dialects with which the mind of the individual has become 
somewhat familiar.” * ‘This fervor vented itself in expres- 
sions of thanksgiving, in fragments of psalmody, or hymnody, 
or prayer, which to the speaker himself conveyed an irresis- 
tible sense of communion with God, and to the bystander an 
impression of some extraordinary manifestation of power; 
but not necessarily any instruction or teaching, and some- 
times even having the appearance of wild excitement like 
that of madness or intoxication.” ? 

Now, experiences of this kind are not confined to primitive 
Christianity nor to the early centuries of this era. One 
recent account describes a visit made to some mystics who, 
in their meeting, exhibited at first motor automatism, fol- 
lowed by semi-prophetic utterances, ending with speaking 
with tongues and a translation of the same. The tongues 


1F, M. Davenport, Primitive Traits in Religious Revivals, p. 237. 
2A. Wright, Some New Testament Problems, p. 284, quoting Stanley’s 
commentary on [ Cor. 


GLOSSOLALIA 53 


consisted of an incomprehensible jargon with no resemblance 
to any known language but English, the native tongue.’ 

The best modern examples have been among the Irving- 
ites, or, as they are properly designated, The Catholic 
Apostolic Church. About 1830 the gift of tongues was re- 
ported from the West of Scotland, and later in the Scotch 
church of the Rev. Edward Irving in London. Mr. Irving 
had been giving some lectures on spiritual gifts, and the 
observed phenomena seemed to confirm his contentions that 
these gifts were not to be confined to the primitive church. 
The speaking with tongues bore no resemblance to any known 
language but was believed to be strictly an unknown tongue, 
the Holy Spirit “using the tongue of man in a manner which 
neither his own intellect could dictate, nor that of any other 
man comprehend.” 

Among the early Mormons, fanaticism showed itself in 
glossolalia. One witness says: “‘Many would have fits of 
speaking all the different Indian dialects, which none could 
understand.” * Another witness describes the phenomena 
as follows: ‘“‘Those who speak in tongues are generally the 
most illiterate among the ‘saints,’ such as cannot command 
words as quick as they would wish, and instead of waiting 
for a suitable word to come to their memories they break 
forth in the first sound their tongues can articulate, no matter 
what it is. Thus some person in the meeting has told an 
interesting story about Zion, then an excitable brother gets 
up to bear his ‘testimony,’ the speed of speech increasing 
with the interest of the subject: ‘Beloved brethren and sis- 
ters, I rejoice, and my heart is glad to overflowing—I hope 


1A. LeBarron, ‘‘A Case of Psychic Automatism,” including ‘‘Speak- 
ing with Tongues,” Proceedings Society for Psychical Research, XII 
Pp. 277-297. 

* The italics are mine. Ezra Booth’s letters to Rev. Ira Eddy from 
Nelson, Ohio, Sept., 1831, published i in the Ohio Star, quoted by I. W. 
Riley, The Founder of Mormonism, p. 268. 


54 GLOSSOLALIA 


to go to Zion, and to see you all there, and to—to—O, me 
sontro von te, sontro von terre, sontro von te. O, me palassate 
te, etc.’””* In this early glossolalia among the Mormons some 
critical listeners distinguished some snatches of Indian dialects. 

Evidently glossolalia is not a distinctive gift of saints. 
Notice the following: “There are also kwei (demons) of 
the quiet sort who talk and laugh like other people, only 
that the voice is changed. Some have a voice like a bird. 
Some speak Mandarin, and some the local dialect. .. . 
Mandarin is the spoken language of the northern provinces 
of China, and is quite different from the language of the 
province of Fukien from which this communication comes.” ? 
Many other examples of glossolalia might be cited from the 
histories of the Franciscans of the thirteenth century, the early 
Quakers, and Methodists, but these will suffice to show the 
character of the phenomena according to this view. While 
there was undoubtedly some simulation in groups employed 
in this form of religious exercise, most of it must be classed as 
genuine ecstasy and studied from this standpoint. 

Another explanation comes in a late work.’ The writer 
affirms that, according to the old view of glossolalia, inter- 
pretation was not necessary, and according to the new view 
interpretation was impossible. His theory is intended to 
harmonize the accounts of Luke and Paul, and to provide a 
place for interpretation. The modern view, he says, does 
not account for the words of Luke, ‘‘Are not all these that 
speak Galileans! And how hear we them every one in his 
own language, wherein we were born?” Accordingly he 
opines that the utterances were spoken in ecstasy, in harmony 

‘S. Hawthornthwaite, Adventures Among the Mormons, pp. 88-91, 
quoted by I. W. Riley, The Founder of Mormonism, p. 270. 

*J. L. Nevius, Demon Possession and Allied Themes, pp. 46 ff., see 
also pp. 58, 115, and 145. 

*A Wright, Some New Testament Problems, Chap. XVIII, pp. 277- 
303. rs 


| J 


GLOSSOLALIA 55 


with the modern view, but were really other languages. The 
speaker did not know the language and was unconscious of 
what he was saying, and when the ecstasy was over he did 


not remember what he had said. 


e Accounts for this in a rational manner, by the well- 
nown phenomena of the abnormally exalted memory in 
certain ecstatic cases. We are all familiar with the well- 
known case narrated by Coleridge, of the illiterate serving- 
maid, who in the delirium of fever recited long passages 
of Latin, Greek, and Hebrew which she had heard her 
former employer recite when she was attending to her 
household duties, but which she hardly noticed and had not 
thought of trying to remember. | 
Another thoroughly investigated case might be cited. In 
1853 there were some alleged cases of demoniacal possession 
in a French village on the borders of Switzerland. Among 
other phenomena the afflicted were said to have experienced 
the gift of tongues, speaking in German and Latin and even 
in Arabic. Professor Tissot, an eminent member of the medi- 
cal faculty of Dijon, visited the village and made a series of 
researches of which he afterward published a full account. 
Concerning the gift of tongues his conclusions were as fol- 
lows: “‘As to German and Latin no great difficulty was pre- 
sented; it was by no means hard to suppose that some of the 
girls might have learned some words of the former language in 
the neighboring Swiss Canton, where German was spoken, or 
even in Germany itself; and as to Latin, considering that they 
had heard it from their childhood in the church, there seemed 
nothing very wonderful in their uttering some words in that 
language also.” ! There was no evidence that Arabic was 
really spoken. This explanation would come under the 


1A. D. White, “‘Diabolism and Hysteria,” Popular Science Monthly, 
June, 1889; A History of the Warfare of Science with Theology, pp. 


159 ff. 


56 GLOSSOLALIA 


caption of exalted memory. Hypermnesia is common to 
many abnormal states. An English officer in Africa was 
hypnotized and suddenly began to speak a strange language. 
This proved to be Welsh, which he had learned as a child and 
forgotten." 

Perhaps a better illustration would be the experiences of 
The Little Prophets of the Cevennes,’ for in them we have 
exalted memory of ecstasy. From 1688 to 1701, about six 
hundred were affected by this strange disorder, most of whom 
were children. They would first swoon and become insensi- 
ble to all sense impressions. ‘Then, although they did not 
know French, children of three years of age and older would 
preach sermons three-quarters of an hour long, in correct 
French, with proper emphasis and gestures. They could 
not be stopped when once started, and they continued in this 
abnormal state until they finished. Inherited memory was 
the explanation given of this extraordinary experience. 

Inherited memory, which explanation leads us into more 
difficulty than the original problem causes, is presented as 
the solution of another case of the gift of tongues. ‘In cer- 
tain abnormal and highly excited states of the nervous system, 
as is proved by abundant facts, matters impressed deep on 
the memory of a father present themselves to the conscious- 
ness of his posterity. I have no doubt, for instance, that the 
daughter of Judge Edmonds derives her capacity to speak, 
in the trance state, in languages unfamiliar to her in the 
ordinary moods of consciousness, from her father’s studies 
in that direction, or rather, from the nervous habit engendered 
by those studies.” * The transference of acquired character- 
istics presents no difficulty to a writer of this kind. 


1A. Moll, Hypnotism, p. 142 f. 

*R. Heath, “The Little Prophets of the Cevennes,’ Contemporary 
Review, Jan., 1886. 

°F. G. Fairfield, Ten Years with Spiritual Mediums. 


—\ , tion of inherited memory is not necessary, but that of greatly 
exalted memory is, for the apostles would have to remember 


GLOSSOLALIA 57 


| According to Wright’s theory of glossolalia, the explana- 


the language heard incidentally in the market place or on 
the street, and be able to reconstruct it into a message. 
So-called speaking with tongues has appeared as~a-con- 
temporary religious mania. A recent revival in Sweden has 
been followed by another awakening accompanied, according 
to the claim, by a genuine gift of tongues. Ecstasy was ex- 
perienced, and the ecstatics began to speak with ‘‘strange 
tongues.”’ In America, however, it seems to have flourished 
best as a modern movement, and has come usually in the 
excitement of revival meetings. ‘These manifestations have 
taken the form of articulate but unintelligible utterances. 
The reported cases of genuine languages having been spoken 
have not been authenticated. The “Apostolic Faith Move- 
ment,”’ which started in Kansas in 1goo, has received some ap- 
parently coveted fame on account of this kind of manifestation, 
but other sects have had similar experiences. ‘The adherents 
to this movement claim that speaking with tongues is the only 
Bible evidence of the baptism of the Holy Spirit. Those who 
claim to have received this gift say that “the Spirit takes 
possession of their vocal organs and uses them as he wills, 
while their minds are at rest. They say they are conscious 
that their vocal organs are being used, but do not know how, 
nor do they know what they are saying. They have no 
power to stop speaking when once the Spirit possesses them. 
In the meeting I attended two women who were thus wrought 
upon. One remained in that condition four or five minutes; 
the other but a few seconds. The first indication I had of 
anything out of the ordinary was a low muttering sound 
without articulation. This muttering lasted but a few sec- 
onds, then the voice raised to a more natural tone and volume, 
and it would be hard to imagine how a more rapid succes- 


58 GLOSSOLALIA 


sion of sounds could come from the mouth of a human 
being. For the most part, these sounds appeared to be 
articulate, but if she spoke a language no one knew it. She 
herself knew not the meaning of any sound she made.” ? 
Something very similar to this in exaltation of memory and 
power of speech, although not using another nor a foreign 
language, is found in an account of some ‘“‘sleeping”’ preach- 
ers. The whole power of the mind seems to have been 
heightened. In London, in 1815, there appeared a book 
entitled Remarkable Sermons by Rachel Baker, and Pious 
Ejaculations, Delivered During Sleep, by Dr. Mitchell, M.D., 
Professor of Physic, the late Dr. Priestly, LL.D., and Dr. 
Douglass. On the title-page of the book are the following 
words, “Several hundreds every evening flock to hear this 
most wonderful Preacher, who is instrumental in converting 
more persons to Christianity, when asleep, than all other 
ministers together whilst awake.’ ‘This book gives an 
account of a girl who was born at Pelham, Mass., in 1794. 
At the age of seventeen she became a religious melancholic, 
and later in the same year she fell into a trance and talked 
about her fear of hell. This continued for two months, at 
the end of which time she seemed to be converted and her 
mind was calmed. From this time on she began to preach 
and to pray in her trances, in such a manner that those who 
knew her well declared that her readiness and fluency far 
exceeded her waking state. Her trances occurred almost 
every evening and lasted for forty-five minutes, beginning 
and ending with slight epileptiform symptoms, and passing 
off into natural sleep for the rest of the night. When she 
awoke she was unable to remember anything that had taken 
place during her trance. There were no other morbid symp- 
toms connected with her case. In this book two other cases 


1S. A. Manwell, ‘Apostolic Faith Movement,” The Wesleyan Meth- 
odist, Feb. 20, 1907. 


atl 


GLOSSOLALIA 59 


of “sleeping preachers” are recorded, viz., Job Cooper, a 
Pennsylvania weaver, in 1774, and Joseph Payne, a sixteen- 
Peele boy, at Reading, England, in 1759. 


~~ | There seems to be little doubt of the ecstatic character of 
‘the utterances in glossolalia, and notwithstanding the inge- 


nuity of Wright’s theory it seems beyond the range of prob- 
ability, if not possibility, that exalted memory to such an 
extraordinary degree could become so common. The cases 
of exalted memory approaching this that have been care- 
fully and scientifically examined so as to preclude imposture 
have been isolated cases, and very few in number. There 
seems to be no better solution than to follow Paul and ex- 
clude Luke’s Pentecostal narrative...In doing this we 
espouse the modern view of the subject. \ 


eermese ntl 


CHAPTER VI 
VISIONS 


‘This is a most majestic vision and harmonious charming.” 
—SHAKESPEARE. 


SIMILAR to the gift of tongues, the vision is sometimes an 
important factor in ecstasy. The legendary lore and sacred 
books of all peoples teem with accounts of revelations given 
in visions. Among primitive people visions and dreams of 
persons, dead or alive, probably gave the first suggestion of a 
soul apart from the body; for the savage considered that he 
really saw a person whom he knew, if alive, to be elsewhere, 
and if dead, to be unable to do the things which the vision 
or dream portrayed.’ 

In the, Old Testament, visions did not play so important a 
part in prophecy as there is a disposition to attribute to them, 
yet their influence was not inconsiderable. ‘The prophet’s 
condition was more frequently that of the mystic than the 
ecstatic, so that what he sometimes called a vision was purely 
a literary garb for the revelation, or merely verbal messages 
which he gave. However, the prophets always regarded 
their visions and dreams as something objective in the sense 
that they were caused by God and were a revelation from Him, 
because the presentation did not come through ordinary chan- 
nels.” No attempt was made to analyze them, they were 


1E. B. Tylor, Anthropology, pp. 343 ff. 
* A. B. Davidson, “Prophecy and Prophets,” Hastings’ Bible Diction- 
ary, IV, p. 115. 
60 


VISIONS 61 


accepted at face value. ‘The phenomena did not end with the 
Old Testament dispensation, nor were they later confined to 
primitive people, but the early church was guided to a certain 
extent by them and the medieval church thrived on them. 
To-day, although they occur, the small consideration which 
they receive tends to discourage them, or if they are ex- 
perienced they may never be related. 

Some of the most famous names in history, especially in 
the history of the Roman Catholic Church, have attained 
prominence either through the visions which they have ex- 
perienced or through the deeds which visions have inspired. 
They tell with rapture of the wonderful visions vouchsafed 
to them and of the conversations which they were privileged 
to hold with angelic visitors. Indeed, visions, at times, seem 
to have been a short cut to sanctification and divine favor. 
St. Teresa, who seems to have had much experience in this 
form of religious exercise, speaks as follows in her auto- 
biography: ; 

“Tike imperfect sleep, which, instead of giving more 
strength to the head, doth but leave it the more exhausted, the 
result of mere operations of the imagination is but to weaken 
the soul. Instead of nourishment and energy she reaps only 
lassitude and disgust: whereas a genuine heavenly vision 
yields to her a harvest of ineffable spiritual riches and an 
admirable renewal of bodily strength. I alleged these 
reasons to those who so often accused my visions of being 
the work of the enemy of mankind and the sport of my 
imagination. . . . I shewed them the jewels which the 
divine hand had left with me:—they were my actual dis- 
positions. All those who knew me saw that I was changed; 
my confessor bore witness to the fact; this improvement, 
palpable in all respects, far from being hidden, was bril- 
liantly evident to all men. As for myself, it was impossible 
to believe that if the demon was its author, he could have 


62 VISIONS 


used, in order to lose me and lead me to hell, an expedient 
so contrary to his own interests as that of uprooting my vices, 
and filling me with masculine courage and other virtues 
instead, for I saw clearly that a single one of these visions was 
enough to enrich me with all that wealth.” * 

The form which visions may take depends on the mental 
condition and contents of the individual experiencing them. 
That perfectly sane people often have them there is no doubt. 
St. Paul considered the one which he received at the time of 
his conversion as an unique favour which conferred upon him 
the apostolic prerogative of an eye-witness.” But this was 
not his only experience: later he refers to having been caught 
up into the third heaven. Shortly before the victory of Con- 
stantine over Maxentius, the former asserted that he saw at 
noonday the vision of a flaming cross in the sky on which was 
the inscription in Greek, ‘‘By this conquer.” It was, per- 
haps, an optical illusion, the effect of a parhelion beheld in the 
moment of the crisis of his destiny when he was greatly ex- 
cited. He found it very useful, however, and adopted the 
standard of the cross as the banner at the head of his armies.°® 

Visions were, indeed, no invention of the mystics, but were 
of practical value to the percipients, and were a common 
phenomenon in the early and middle ages. “They played 
a much more important part in the life of the early church 
than many ecclesiastical historians are willing to admit. 
Tertullian, for instance, says calmly, ‘The majority, almost, 
of men learn God from visions.’ Such implicit reliance was 
placed on the divine authority of visions, that on one occa- 
sion an ignorant peasant and a married man was made 
Patriarch of Alexandria against his will, because his dying 


* Quoted by W. James, The Varieties of Religious Experience, p. 21. 

7C. D. Royse, “‘The Psychology of Saul’s Conversion,” American 
Journal of Religious Psychology and Education, I, pp. 149 ff. 

*G. P. Fisher, History of the Christian Church, p. 88. 


VISIONS 63 


predecessor had a vision that the man who should bring him 
a present of grapes on the next day should be his successor! 
In course of time visions became rarer among the laity, but 
continued frequent among the monks and clergy.” ! 

Among the hermits of the early church visions were 
especially common. Of these Lecky says: “All the elements 
of hallucination were there. Ignorant and superstitious, 
believing as a matter of religious conviction that countless 
demons filled the air, attributing every fluctuation of his tem- 
perament, and every exceptional phenomenon in surrounding 
nature, to spiritual agency; delirious, too, from solitude and 
long-continued austerities, the hermit soon mistook for pal- 
pable realities the phantoms of his brain. In the ghastly 
gloom of the sepulchre, where, amid mouldering corpses, he 
took up his abode; in the long hours of the night penance, 
where the desert wind sobbed around his lonely cell, and the 
cries of wild beasts were borne upon his ears, visible forms of 
lust or terror appeared to haunt him, and strange dramas 
were enacted by those who were contending for his soul. An 
imagination strained to the utmost limit, acting upon a frame 
attenuated and diseased by macerations, produced bewilder- 
ing psychological phenomena, paroxysms of conflicting pas- 
sions, sudden alternations of joy and anguish, which he 
regarded as manifestly supernatural. Sometimes, in the very 
ecstasy of his devotion, the memory of old scenes would 
crowd upon his mind. The shady groves and soft, volup- 
tuous gardens of his native city would arise, and, kneeling 
alone upon the burning sand, he seemed to see around him 
the fair groups of dancing-girls, on whose warm, undulating 
limbs and wanton smiles his youthful eyes had too fondly 
dwelt. . . . The simplest incident came at last to suggest 
diabolical influence.” ” 


1W. R. Inge, Christian Mysticism, p. 16. 
7W. E. H. Lecky, History of European Morals, II, pp. 116 ff. 


64 VISIONS 


Brutus had a vision of Cesar whom he had murdered. 
The spectre appeared when he was anxious about the battle 
which was to be the crisis in his career, and promised to meet 
him at Philippi, where the murderer afterward sustained 
disastrous defeat. St. Anthony, in the desert, heard the 
voice of Christ, was beaten by devils, was frightened by the 
spectre of a black boy, and was enticed by a phantom woman. 
St. Augustine’s conversion was accompanied by an hallucina- 
tion and his mother had visions. St. Teresa speaks of Jesus, 
St. Francois de Sales of the Virgin, and Henry Suso, a 
German mystic of the fourteenth century, of the “Eternal 
Wisdom” in the form of a beautiful maiden. To the 
latter the maiden was a lovely mistress and his soul em- 
braced her. He also had a vision of the Holy Child on 
Candlemas Day, whom he handled and kissed in great joy. 
St. Gertrude had hallucinations of amatory caresses and 
favors from the Son of God. The Lord appeared and, 
‘giving to her soul the softest kiss,” talked with her and 
called her his beloved. Julian of Norwich prayed that she 
might have “‘a grievous sickness almost unto death,” in order 
that she might enjoy a “bodily sight” of her Lord upon the 
cross, ‘‘like others that were Christ’s lovers.”? ‘The sickness 
came, and when she was thought to be dying the vision ap- 
peared. The blessed Margaret Mary Alacoque received the 
vision and revelation of the Sacred Heart. The Lord took 
her heart out of her breast and inflamed it; He then returned 
it to her. Raphael’s ‘“‘San Sisto” was presented as a vision 
to the astonished artist, who reproduced it on canvas. Luther 
threw an ink-bottle at a vision of the devil, the Lord appeared 
to St. Francis in the form of a seraph, and Emanuel Sweden- 
borg beheld God himself. Engelbrecht relates how he was 
carried by the Holy Spirit through space to the gates of hell, 
and then borne in a golden chariot to heaven, where he saw 
choirs of saints and angels singing around the throne, and 


VISIONS 6s 


received a message from God, delivered to him by an angel. 
Marie de Morel betrayed her vision by her attitude and the 
expression of her countenance. ‘Thus at Christmas time she 
seemed to hold in her arms a new-born babe, at Epiphany 
she worshipped it on her knees as the Magi might, and on 
Holy Thursday she attended the marriage at Cana. The 
different scenes in the life of Christ were enacted, including 
the Passion and the crucifixion. Louise Lateau had a vision 
of the Passion which she enacted with considerable histrionic 
skill, and on awakening described with much detail the cross, 
vestments, crown of thorns, wounds, and other factors in the 
scene. Joan of Arc, at twelve years of age, heard voices 
commanding her, and shortly afterward saw the figures of 
the saints (St. Catherine and St. Margaret). Of the attire 
of the saints her Voice would not give her permission to speak, 
but she told of their being preceded by St. Michael and the 
angels of heaven. She said, “I saw them as clearly as Isee 
you, and I used to weep when they departed, and would fain 
that they should have taken me with them.” However, the 
auditory hallucinations controlled her life far more than the 
visions. Joseph Smith, among other religious founders, 
valued his visions very highly, and his followers still cite 
them. 

Among the visions of this age, perhaps the most remark- 
able were a series of apparitions of the Virgin at Dordogne, 
in 1889. A neurotic child of eleven years, named Marie 
Magoutier, was the first to see the vision. She saw a figure 
like the statues in the churches in a hole in a wall situated 
in a lonely place. The vision next appeared to children of 
her own age, and then to a large number of peasants, both 
men and women. ‘The suggestion was general, and each one 
filled in and particularized for himself. For this reason, 
while the visions were similar, the details differed. ‘To some 
the Virgin appeared dressed in white, to others in black; 


66 VISIONS 


sometimes she was veiled and sometimes not; sometimes the 
figure was large and at other times small; sometimes the 
body was luminous, or lights were attached to the shoulders 
or breasts; at times the surroundings also changed. These 
visions were seen in cracks or holes in the wall, but some 
who had seen the Virgin in the wall also saw her in the 
fields or on the road. Convulsive movements and ecstasy 
were exhibited by a few. On August 11 more than fifteen 
hundred persons visited the wall, and many of these saw the 
Virgin.’ 

We have been talking of visions without any definition. 
By a vision we simply mean something seen. ‘The idea has 
been narrowed so as to stand for visual hallucinations, 7. e., 
when there is nothing objectively present corresponding to 
our perception. By usage there is a further limitation, and 
the term ‘‘vision”’ is used for visual hallucination when the 
apparition is of a religious character. Most persons have 
had hallucinations of some sense, although the visual and 
auditory ones predominate; they are common phenomena. 
When we speak of a vision, however, the tendency is to think 
of it as a mysterious and abnormal experience. Of course, 
hallucinations with a reasonable and connected thread run- 
ning through a complete picture or act are uncommon, but 
they are experienced, nevertheless, with no religious sig- 
nificance. 

The possibility of vision depends on the temperament of 
the individual, and the character is determined by the con- 
tent of mind, suggestion, and imitation. Some people cor- 
rect their hallucinations and recognize them as such, others 
retain them as visions. The vision is a form of sensory 
automatism. Why the overflow of energy should take the 
sensory form as in vision rather than the motor form as in 


*L. Marillier, “Apparitions of the Virgin,” Proceedings of the Society 
for Psychical Research, VII, pp. 100-110. 


VISIONS «6 


glossolalia, is a secret wrapped up in the special constitution 
of the nervous system of the particular individual. 

The character of the vision depends on many factors. 
Some are full of details and others are meagre. This may 
depend upon the amount of passionate feeling possessed by 
the individual, but it is more likely to be fixed by the content 
of the mind. A mind richly stored has more varied and 
richer visions. It may also depend on the suggestion given 
by word or that given by the experience of others. The in- 
cident of the visions of the Virgin seen by so many people is 
an example of the suggested vision, the details of which were 
supplied by the individual. ‘There is also a great difference in 
the visionary répertoire of people. Some are confined to a 
single vision which is often repeated, with others visions are 
experienced on a great variety of subjects, and with the seer 
these may appear on demand or on suggestion. Visions 
cannot appear when thought is active; there must appa- 
rently be a cessation of active mentality. They differ from 
dreaming, however, for visions come when the subject is 
awake. | 

In the fifth century there was a passion for visions of 
heaven and hell, which was a natural continuation of the 
desire for dogmatic definition. Not all mystics or vision- 
aries, however, put great dependence on visions, and some 
even consider their value doubtful. ‘‘We do not find that 
masters of the spiritual life attached very much importance 
to them, or often appealed to them as aids to faith. Asa 
rule, visions were regarded as special rewards bestowed by 
the goodness of God on the struggling saint, and especially 
on the beginner, to refresh him and strengthen him in the 
hour of need. Very earnest cautions were issued that no 
effort must be made to induce them artificially, and aspirants 
were exhorted neither to desire them, nor to feel pride in 
having seen them. The spiritual guides of the Middle Ages 


68 VISIONS 


were well aware that such experiences often come of disordered 
nerves and weakened digestion; they believed also that they 
are sometimes delusions of Satan. Richard of St. Victor 
says, ‘As Christ attested His transfiguration by the presence 
of Moses and Elias, so visions should not be believed unless 
they have the authority of Scripture.’ Albertus Magnus 
tries to classify them, and says that those which contain a 
sensuous element are always dangerous. Eckhart is still 
more cautious, and Tauler attaches little value to them. 
Avila, the Spanish mystic, says that only those visions which 
minister to our spiritual necessities and make us more humble 
are genuine. Self-induced visions inflate us with pride, and 
do irreparable injury to health of mind and body.”? St. 
John of the Cross said that at best visions are “‘childish toys”; 
‘the fly that touches honey cannot fly,’”’ and the probability 
is that they come from the devil. Molinos took the same 
view. ‘‘The Hebrews were aware that the vision, in which 
spiritual truth is clothed in forms derived from the sphere of 
the outer senses, is not the highest form of revelation.” ? 
The study of visions betrays the fact, then, that some are 
simply pictorial representations in consciousness, according 
to natural psychical laws, of fleeting thoughts, prayers, or 
beliefs, perhaps long forgotten, but carefully retained by the 
subconsciousness. ‘These are sometimes recognized by con- 
sciousness as such, and at other times appear to be entirely 
new material. Other visions are but exaggerations of past 
experiences, or visual presentations of auditory or other than 
visual experiences of the past. Still others may not represent 
past experiences of any kind, but are simply newly created 
presentations; known facts may be weaved in or certain 
portions may be suggested. Most religious visions are, to 
some extent, a new creation, and so come under the latter 


1W. R. Inge, Christian Mysticism, p. 16 f. 
*R. Smith, The Prophets of Israel, p. 220. 


VISIONS 69 


class, in which suggestion may play considerable part.’ If 
the emotional pressure is considerable, and the intense con- 
centration of attention, as already noted to be so necessary 
for ecstasy, is present, then suggestion completes the trio 
which fulfil the necessary conditions for visions. 

We must not think, however, that all visions and hallucina- 
tions are experienced in connection with ecstasy; this is far 
from being true; it would be more correct to say that in most 
cases of ecstasy visions are present. Neither must we think 
that because hallucinations are not uncommon and come in 
connection with numerous subjects, and that we can trace 
some religious visions to previous experiences, and that all 
are due to subconscious activity, that God is eliminated from 
them and that He cannot give a revelation through them. 
This, again, is making a statement for which we have no 
evidence, for there are some visions for which we cannot 
account except by the creative imagination. To say this is 
but to designate method, not cause. 

Visions may be obtained at will by some through the phe- 
nomenon of crystal gazing, and like ecstasy may be in- 
duced by certain hypnotics. Some persons have had genuine 
religious visions while under the influence of chloroform.’ 
We find that at the time of definite religious experiences 
visions are liable to appear. At the time of conversion, heal- 
ing by faith or at shrines, the taking of vows, or of consecra- 
tion, they are common. These visions are usually of a 
religious character, but not necessarily so. Visions at con- 
version are not nearly so common as formerly. As an 
example of this form, the following is an account from the 
Wesleyan Revival. “One girl, who had ‘come through’ 
after shrieking and insensibility and violent distortion of 


1M. Prince, ‘“‘An Experimental Study of Visions,” Brain, XXI, pp. 


528 ff. 
2 W. James, The Varieties of Religious Experience, p. 391. 


70 , VISIONS 


face, related that in the swoon she thought herself on an 
island and saw Satan in a hideous form just ready to de- 
vour her, hell all around open to receive her and herself 
just ready to drop in. But just as she was dropping, the 
Lord appeared between her and the gulf and would not let 
her fall.” * 


+F. M. Davenport, Primitive Tratts in Religious Revivals, p. 172. 


CHAPTER VII 
DREAMS 


““Dreams, 
Which are the children of an idle brain, 
Begot of nothing but vain fantasy, 
Which is as thin of substance as the air 
And more inconstant than the wind.’”—SHAKESPEARE. 


DREAMS as sleeping visions and visions as waking dreams 
are closely connected psychologically, as well as in the sig- 
nificance put upon them by primitive religions. The super- 
stitions attached to dreams by so many people to-day might 
indicate their religious importance in days gone by. While 
they have little religious or prophetic value now, they were 
formerly considered visions from God. They furnished 
mythologies to the heathen, and have produced revelations 
for the exercise of faith. But notwithstanding the recogni- 
tion of both good and evil dream spirits, the savage does not 
seem to dread them, for he courts both sleep and dreams, 
the latter sometimes by artificial means, by fasting, for in- 
stance.” Nightmares have played no small part in the de- 
velopment of demonology, and in the belief in vampires and 
witches. Dreams are really manifestations of the myth- 
making tendency of the human mind, examples of the ac- 
tivity of the uncontrolled imagination. 

Not a little of the work of soothsayers among the early 


1W. James, Psychology, II, p. 294. 
2C. C. Everett, Psychological Elements of Religious Faith, p. 4. 
*E. Parish, Hallucinations and Illusions, p. 56. 


yes 


"2 DREAMS 


nations was the interpretation of dreams. The Old Testa- 
ment calls our attention to the need of discriminating be- 
tween the dreams of the good and of the false prophets.* 
They were thought to be the suggestions of good or of evil 
spirits.? Among some of the less civilized races and peoples 
the dreams of women played a more important part than 
those of men. In the Lake Shirwa district of Central Africa, 
for example, sacred functions are performed by the prophet- 
ess, who is usually one of the chief’s wives. The gods or 
ancestral spirits make known their will to her by means of 
dreams, from which she gives forth oracles according to the 
exigencies of the case. ‘These oracles are usually delivered 
in a frenzied state.’ 

Even to-day there are some startling examples of veridical 
dreams, those which have come true, or are being enacted 
in real life at the time without the conscious knowledge of 
the dreamer. Dreams of prophecy, as far as disease of the 
body is concerned, are most valuable premonitory symptoms 
for the physician.* The organic sensations of a pathological 
character may be so vague and feeble that they are not con- 
sciously perceived, but they create subconscious impressions 
which give rise to dreams which to the illiterate seem strangely 
prophetical. It is possible that in some cases of mental 
trouble the dream may be, in a certain measure, a cause of 
the disorder. Hysterical paralysis not infrequently begins 
in this way, and other neurotic troubles take their form from 
the influence of dream suggestions. The delusions which 
afterward become permanent in insanity may be first noticed 
in a dream. In many cases of demoniacal possession the 


*Q. C. Whitehouse, “Soothsayer,” Hastings’ Bible Dictionary, IV, 
p. 601. 

?M. de Manacéine, Sleep, p. 4. 

° H. Ellis, Man and Woman, p. 263. 

*L. Waldstein, The Subconscious Self, p. 98. 


DREAMS "4 


first symptoms occur during sleep, in dreams. So, in some 
cases, we still recognize the prophetic quality of dreams.’ 

Dreams have already been referred to as an example of 
the activity of subconsciousness; in fact, dreaming is a repre- 
sentative form of subconscious mental action.? In dreams, 
there is no guidance by consciousness; we commit acts for 
which we should never forgive ourselves, and yet we rarely 
feel the slightest remorse; there are no restrictions put upon 
our actions, no qualities of real or unreal, possible or impos- 
sible, right or wrong. We are surprised at nothing in our 
dreams and nothing seems incongruous; dreams are true 
while they last. Neither are there restrictions as far as pur- 
poses or ends are concerned; in dreamland there are no 
tasks to burden us, we may wander where we will, or rather 
we may follow the sportive vagaries of the uncontrolled 
imagination, without fear of rebuke or punishment. So 
rapid and intuitive is the succession of ideas in dreams as to 
remind us of the vision of Mohammed, in which he saw all 
the wonders of heaven and hell, although the jar of water 
which fell when his ecstasy commenced had not spilled its 
contents when he returned to his normal state.® 

The immediate stimuli of dreams are usually insignificant.‘ 
It is a case of a little fire starting a great matter; for the 
imagination seizes the slightest suggestion and by subcon- 
scious processes elaborates it out of all proportion. These 
stimuli may be of two kinds: objective excitement and asso- 
ciation of ideas.° The former variety is the more numerous 
and includes those already referred to as premonitory symp- 
toms of disease, dreams suggested by noises, uncomfortable 


1C. L. Tuckey, Treatment by Hypnotism and Suggestion, p. 39. 
2J. Jastrow, The Subconsciousness, p. 220. 

3'W. Scott, Demonology and Witchcraft, p. 209. 

*G. T. Ladd, Psychology, Descriptive and Explanatory, p. 412. 
5A. Moll, Hypnotism, p. 210. 


"4 DREAMS 


positions of the body, indigestion, and other forms of objective 
stimulation so well known to all who have examined dreams 
to any extent. For example, the noise made by a slamming 
door may serve as a stimulus, and a dream of some length is 
experienced ending in a climax of an exploding cannon. 
This is only possible on account of the wonderful rapidity of 
dream activity. A whispered word or some auto-suggestion 
may serve the same purpose. 

Those dreams which come through the association of ideas, 
when there is no external stimulus, can only be explained by 
the constant activity of the subconsciousness. Failing to 
have a dream suggested to it by present physical sensation, 
the mind seems to revert to the subjects of thought of the 
previous day, or of some former period of life, and to take 
up one or other of them as a theme on which to play varia- 
tions. Very rarely, however, do our dreams take up the 
matter which has most engrossed us for hours before sleep.’ 
The ideas appear like stars at sunset. As soon as conscious- 
ness, with its watchful regulations, has subsided, subcon- 
sciousness assumes control, and uses or misuses the mental 
household. When the cat is away the mice will play. 

It will be noticed that these two varieties of dreams corre- 
spond to the distinction made between hallucinations and 
illusions. The latter variety has some external stimulus, 
but is misinterpreted, the former is without objective stimu- 
lation. As there is no fixed line but a graduated scale be- 
tween illusions and hallucinations, so the line of demarca- 
tion between these two forms of dreams is not always clear. 

One phenomenon of the dream state is the exhibition of a 
marvellous power of memory. Much that is considered 
miraculous in dreams is but the working of an abnormally 
acute memory. Not a little of the material for dreams is 


1F. B. Cobbe, ‘“‘Unconscious Cerebration,’”’ Macmillan’s Magazine, 
XXIII, pp. 24-27; “Dreams,” zbid., pp. 512-523. 


DREAMS 75 


furnished by impressions left on the subconsciousness by 
occurrences long since past, which have completely faded 
out of conscious memory or may, in truth, never have been 
consciously perceived. There is sometimes a strange ex- 
perience when a person is in a.hypnagogic state—between 
waking and sleeping—when he knows he is dreaming, and 
knows the content is unreal, but makes an effort to prolong 
the dream if agreeable, or to stop it if it is not pleasant. The 
influence of these and other dreams is occasionally felt after 
awaking, and sometimes the same sensations continue.’ 
Whatever be the kind of dream, whatever its origin, its 
seat is always in the subconsciousness, and it must always be 
studied from this standpoint. Among the dreams designated 
as coming through the association of ideas are some of quite 
a different character from those which we have already men- 
tioned. I refer to those in which problems are solved, work 
of different kinds developed or finished, and speeches or 
articles composed which would be difficult or quite impossible 
in the conscious state. Allow me to give one example. Cole- 
ridge, who was naturally a dreamer, fell asleep while reading 
the passage in Purchas’s Pilgrimage in which is mentioned 
“the stately pleasure house.” On awaking he felt as though 
he had composed two or three hundred lines with which he 
had nothing further to do but to write them down, “‘the images 
rising up as things, with a parallel production of the corre- 
spondent expressions, without any sensation or consciousness 
of effort.”” The whole of this remarkable fragment—‘‘ Kubla 
Khan”—consisting of fifty-four lines, was written as fast as 
his pen could trace the words. When this much had been 
transcribed, he was interrupted by a person on business, who 
stayed over an hour. After this the poet found to his sur- 


1A. Moll, Hypnotism, p. 143. 
*See F. W. H. Myers, Human Personality and tts Survival of Bodily 
Death, I, Chap. IV, for an interesting discussion of the whole subject. 


76 DREAMS 


prise and mortification that “‘although he still retained some 
vague and dim recollection of the general purport of the 
vision, yet, with the exception of some eight or ten scattered 
lines and images, all the rest had passed away, like the images 
on the surface of a stream into which a stone had been cast; 
but alas! without the after-restoration of the latter.” * Equally 
illustrative of the creative power of dreams is the delightful 
account given by Stevenson.’ 

After considering phenomena, of which these are but 
samples, the question naturally arises, if supernormal revela- 
tions are given to men in dreams dealing with poetry, mathe- 
matics, and business, would it be unreasonable to suppose 
that, on occasions when there appeared to be a necessity for 
them, supernormal revelations of religion should be vouch- 
safed? I have spoken of the seat of the dreams being the 
subconsciousness, the method of working being the associa- 
tion of ideas, but of the origin nothing has been opined. 
Might it be possible that we could opine a divine origin in 
some cases ? 

“The psychology of dreams and visions, so far as we can 
speak of such a psychology, furnishes us with neither suffi- 
cient motive nor sufficient means for denying the truth of 
the Biblical narratives. On the contrary, there are certain 
grounds for confirming the truth of some of these narra- 
tives. . . . Even in ordinary dreams, the dreamer is still 
the human soul. The soul acts, then, even in dreaming, as 
a unity, which involves within itself the functions and ac- 
tivities of the higher, even of the ethical and religious powers. 
. . - The possibilities of even the highest forms of ethical 
and religious activities in dreams cannot be denied. . . 
There is nothing in the physiological or psychical conditions 
of dream-life to prevent such psychical activity for the recep- 


‘W. B. Carpenter, Mental Physiology, p. 268. 
?,R. L. Stevenson, Across the Plains, Chapter on Dreams. 


DREAMS "7 


tion of revealed truth. . . . It remains in general true that 
the Bible does not transgress the safe limits of possible or 
even actual experience.” * 

While the Bible as a whole does not emphasize the religious 
value of dreams, there are somé incidents which seem to be 
important. Matthew records six supernatural dreams, of 
which at least the five found in the first two chapters are 
fundamentally important. These six are the only dreams 
referred to in the New Testament except in citation. Since 
Apostolic times many instances of the power of dreams in 
the lives of men have filled the pages of religious history. On 
the dream of Patrick hung his whole work as an apostle to 
the Irish; by a dream Elizabeth Fry was rescued from the 
indecision and doubt into which she fell after her conversion; 
dreams played a vital part in the conversions of John Bunyan, 
John Newton, James Gardiner, Alexander Duff, and many 
others.” 

I have already noted that visions are experienced to-day in 
times of unusual religious experience. The same may be 
said of dreams. In some investigations made in connection 
with religious awakenings, the following striking dreams were 
noticed: dreams of being cast into hell and suffering all the 
torments of the damned, dreams of being cast out of heaven, 
dreams of a heavenly procession which the subject could not 
join, and dreams of being examined on fitness to go to heaven.* 
At such times the dreams are likely to be of a terrifying char- 
acter, although this is not always the case. 


1G. T. Ladd, The Doctrine of the Sacred Scripture, II, p. 436. 
2B. B. Warfield, “ Dream,” Hastings’ Dictionary of Christ, etc., I, 


PP. 494 ff. 
*G. A. Coe, The Spiritual Life, p. 122. 


CHAPTER VIII 
STIGMATIZATION 


“‘He jests at scars that never felt a wound.”—SHAKESPEARE. 


THE ancient method of showing tribal connection was by 
certain marks branded or tatooed on the body similar to the 
brands which are now placed on cattle or horses. In de- 
scribing a temple of Hercules in Egypt, Herodotus says that 
it was not lawful to retake runaway slaves who had sought 
refuge therein, if they had on their bodies marks consecrating 
them to Deity.*. Paul may have had a similar idea in saying, 
‘“‘From henceforth let no man trouble me; for I bear branded 
on my body the marks (stigmata) of Jesus.”” Whether Paul 
meant by this marks of shipwreck and scourging received in 
the Master’s service or definite marks signifying his disciple- 
ship, we donot know. He may have referred to the blindness 
which befell him at the time of his conversion.’ 

The New Testament speaks of voluntary mutilations for 
Christ’s sake, and we know that later Christians marked 
themselves on the hands or arms with the cross or the name 
of Christ. In the middle centuries nuns marked themselves 
as a means of protection, and martyrs were branded on their 
foreheads as a form of persecution.* Some think the marks 
to which Paul referred were on his body typifying the pas- 

1 Encyclopedia Britannica, Art. ‘‘Stigmatization.”’ 

? J. Hastings, “Mark,” Hastings’ Bible Dictionary, III, p. 244 f.; 
J. C. Lambert, ‘‘Stigmata,” Hastings’ Dictionary of Christ, etc., II, 


P. 677}. 
* Encyclopedia Britannica, Art. ‘Stigmatization.” 


78 


STIGMATIZATION 79 


sion and crucifixion of Jesus. While this is not likely, the 
term “stigmatization” now designates this condition. It 
consists of the marks of the nails on the hands and feet, of 
the spear thrust in the side, of the thorns on the forehead, 
and of scourgings on the body. 

In genuine cases these wounds are not externally inflicted 
by the person experiencing them or by others, but they 
appear spontaneously in ecstasy. Less than four hundred 
cases have been reported scattered through the last seven 
hundred years, about one hundred of which were credited 
to the nineteenth century." They have been experienced in 
every European country as well as in America, and among 
persons in every station of life, especially, though, by mem- 
bers of the Dominican and Franciscan orders. The reason 
for the latter fact will become apparent as we proceed with 
the description of this state. Only about one in twenty, or 
about a score in all, were married. . 

Unless we consider Paul thus branded, Saint Francis of 
Assisi, Italy, was the first one to receive these marks.? He 
was born in 1182, and after twenty years spent in a careless 
manner, being indulged by his mother and in business part- 
nership with his father, he had a severe illness. He arose 
from his sick bed much altered, and forsaking his old friends 
and haunts he embraced a life of rigid penance and utter 
poverty. He tried to live a life modelled after that of Christ. 
He retired to a grotto near Assisi and gave himself up to 
profound meditation on the sufferings of Jesus. His austeri- 
ties and simple eloquence soon attracted others to his life, and 
in 1208, with seven others, the Franciscan order was founded. 
It grew rapidly and was finally approved by Innocent III. 
On September 14, 1224, on Monte Alverno, a lonely mountain 


1 New International Encyclopedia, Art. ‘‘Stigmatization.” 
2 Paul Sabatier, St. Francis of Assisi; F. P. L. Josa, St. Francis of 
Assist. 


80 STIGMATIZATION 


near Assisi, the Lord appeared to Francis in the form of a 
seraph, with arms extended and feet as if fixed to a cross. 
After thinking what this might mean, in an ecstasy of prayer 
there appeared on his body marks corresponding to the nail 
wounds of Christ on his hands and feet, and a wound in his 
side. We are told by some authorities that the side wound 
bled occasionally, but Bonaventura calls it a scar. ‘The evi- 
dence of Pope Alexander IV, Saint Bonaventura and other 
witnesses who saw the wounds both before and after his 
death appears satisfactory and incontrovertible. Francis 
died two years after the appearance of the stigmata, October 
2220, 

The second stigmatic was Saint Catherine of Siena (Cath- 
erine Benincasa). She was born one hundred and eleven 
years after the death of Francis, in 1347. Early in life she 
began austerities and had religious experiences. At six 
years of age she flogged herself and had visions; at seven 
she deprived herself of food. Her main object in life seems 
to have been to conceive of some new cruelty to inflict upon 
herself, until it was said she went without food several years 
and slept only fifteen minutes out of every twenty-four hours 
(sic). She became a sister of the third rule of St. Dominic. 
When twenty-three years old, after receiving the sacrament, 
she fell into a trance as was her custom on similar occasions. 
During the trance she enacted the crucifixion and then came 
to her confessor and told him that she had received the 
much coveted stigmata. She related to him a vision in 
which she had seen the light streaming from the wounds in 
Jesus’ body to the corresponding parts of her body, and 
thus she was stigmatized. 

It is difficult to appreciate the value of this second case 
without a knowledge of the fierce and bitter rivalry which 
existed between the Dominicans and Franciscans at this 
time. St. Francis’ experience was unique and the exclusive 


STIGMATIZATION 81 


boast of his followers. After the stigmatization of Cath- 
erine, the Dominicans considered themselves equally blessed. 
Pope Pius II, a townsman of Catherine, approved of a ser- 
vice incorporating her stigmatization, but Sixtus IV, a 
Franciscan who followed Pius, decreed that Francis had an 
exclusive right to this miracle. Further light is thrown on 
this rivalry by the constant attempts of Catherine to outdo 
Francis in all austerities, and were it necessary to make such 
an explanation, attention might be called to the fact that her 
frequent floggings would make fraud quite possible. 

After the experience of Catherine, stigmatization occurred 
comparatively frequently, but almost without exception it 
was among members of these two orders. About four 
females were stigmatized to every male. Most of these 
experiences took place in religious houses after the austerities 
of Lent, and most frequently on Good Friday, when the minds 
of the inmates were concentrated on the Passion. All stig- 
matics were supposed to be thereby highly favored of 
God. 

There is nothing incredible or miraculous about these cases 
of stigmatization. Similar phenomena have been produced 
by suggestion on hypnotic subjects, and although it may 
seem strange that the mind can hold such a powerful sway 
over the body, when we witness these phenomena on hyp- 
notic subjects through suggestion we can easily account for 
them on ecstatic subjects through auto-suggestion. Even 
without ecstasy, hypnotism, or allied states, we know that 
under strong emotional excitement blood is transudated 
through the perspiratory ducts.’ Stigmatization is one form 
of vesication, and it is interesting to note in some cases that 
blisters appear before the blood or marks. Notice, then, 
what has been experimentally accomplished with hypnotic 
subjects. 

1'W. B. Carpenter, Mental Physiology, p. 690. 


82 STIGMATIZATION 


By applying a piece of cold iron to the skin of a hypnotized 
person and suggesting that it was red hot, all the effects of a 
burn appeared, the blisters being prominent, and suppura- 
tion continuing for weeks afterward. The application of 
common paper or postage stamps with the suggestion of a 
blister has been tried successfully, the blister appearing 
within forty-eight hours and continuing to discharge for some 
time; the surrounding parts were also red and inflamed. 
The same effect has been accomplished by suggesting that 
pure water which was applied to the skin would cause a 
blister. By accident too much water was used and it spread 
over a large surface; the whole wet surface blistered. In 
certain subjects a fixed spot on the body may be made to 
appear red. This may take place within a few minutes 
after the suggestion and remain this way for some time. 
For instance, cases are on record where a hypnotic operator 
would simply lay his finger on the patient’s body and tell 
him that on awaking a red spot would appear where he was 
touched by the finger. The suggestion was taken and that 
part of the patient’s body gradually became red. In another 
case a blunt, smooth instrument was used to write the sub- 
ject’s name on his arm, and the suggestion was given that 
this writing would appear in red. Care was taken that the 
skin should not be scratched or broken. The suggestion 
took effect, and the name in raised and red letters was present 
for weeks.’ 

We may go a step further and report some cases where 
hemorrhage and bleeding stigmata were brought about by 
suggestion. In the famous subject Louis V. this was done 
several times. Professors Bourru and Burot made some ex- 
periments on a young marine who was afflicted with hysterio- 
epilepsy. After being hypnotized the following suggestion 


1 Binet and Féré, Animal Magnetism, pp. 197-199, report a number 
of cases. 


STIGMATIZATION 83 


was given. ‘At four o’clock this afternoon after the hyp- 
nosis you will come into my office, sit down in the arm-chair, 
cross your arms upon your breast, and your nose will begin 
to bleed.” At the appointed time the suggestion was carried 
out, several drops of blood coming from the left nostril. On 
another occasion, with the same operator and subject, this 
suggestion was made: “At four o’clock this afternoon you 
will go to sleep and your arms will bleed along the lines which 
I have traced, and your name will appear written on your 
arm in letters of blood.’ The operator then with a dull in- 
strument traced the subject’s name on both forearms. At 
four o’clock he went to sleep and on the left arm the letters 
stood out in bright red relief, and in several places there were 
drops of blood. ‘Three months later these letters were still 
visible, although they had grown gradually fainter. After 
this subject had been taken to the asylum similar experiments 
were successfully tried, and on one occasion, doubling his 
personality through spontaneous somnambulism, he suggested 
to himself hemorrhagic stigmata on his arm, which were soon 
realized. This furnishes a case parallel to the religious 
bleeding stigmatics. 

Artigales and Rémond published a case of a woman of 
twenty-two in whom tears of blood appeared. By suggestion 
it was also possible to call out bloody sweat on the palm of 
her hand.” In one interesting case where certain letters were 
suggested to appear, and the letters were marked off by the 
operator, when they did appear they were the correct letters, 
but were entirely Soca in form and handwriting from 
those suggested.° 7 

With these experimental cases in mind, when we consider 
that most of the subjects of stigmatization were ecstatics— 


1C. L. Tuckey, Treatment by Hypnotism and Suggestion, pp. 67-70. 
2A. Moll, Hypnotism, p. 132 }. 
SF. W. H. Myers, Human Personality, etc., I, p. 495 }. 


84 STIGMATIZATION 


usually females of strongly emotional temperaments—and 
that there was intense concentration of thought upon the 
Saviour’s sufferings; when, I say, we think of their sym- 
_ pathetic attention upon the wounds of Christ, and remem- 
bering the effect of the mind upon the body, stigmatization 
ceases to be a miracle, and the physiological rationale is 
apparent. Many more hypnotic experiments could be cited 
to prove the power of the mind over the vaso-motor system 
and the secretions. Experiments which would show quite as 
remarkable, if not so spectacular, phenomena are frequently 
performed in the healing of disease by suggestion. A study 
of the subject will reveal this as a commonplace incident. 
The blood supply is controlled by the vaso-dilator and vaso- 
constrictor nerves, and these nerves are ruled by the sub- 
consciousness. ‘The rush of blood to the face or a general 
pallor of countenance when certain emotions are strongly 
felt are familiar sights. Stigmatization is only a blush in 
a certain limited area, and in bleeding stigmatization the 
blush becomes so violent that the blood bursts through the 
skin. A blush is not an abnormal phenomenon, and the 
stigmatic blush is but an exaggeration of this. 

Stigmatics may be divided into several classes according 
to the degree of stigmatization and the cause. First, then, 
we have full stigmatization with the wounds or marks in 
evidence, similar to the cases of St. Francis, St. Catherine, 
and others. In the second place we find some cases where 
only a portion of the marks could be seen and the others were 
subjectively felt, being indicated by severe pains. The third 
class is composed of those on whom no peripheral markings 
were apparent, but who claimed that impressions were made 
upon the heart alone. Post-mortem examinations proved 
this to be true. In the fourth class are those on whom no 
marks were made but who suffered great pain in the parts of 
the body corresponding to the wounds of Christ. It seems 


STIGMATIZATION 85 


that cases of the fourth class should be eliminated from the 
enumeration as these are not true stigmatics.’ 

When we consider causes there are three possible explana- 
tions. The first is that of fraud where the marks were pro- 
duced by designing persons on others or by the persons 
themselves for the sake of notoriety or gain, for all stigmatics 
have thereby immediately risen to prominence in religious 
circles and received much attention from the curious. The 
second explanation is self-infliction by hysterical or ecstatic 
persons when in an abnormal state, the deceit being absolutely 
unknown to the person when normal. In the third class are 
the genuine stigmatics, and I believe this to be by far the most 
numerous class. Miracle is not included among the explana- 
tions. 

The case of stigmatization which has been most thoroughly 
examined from a scientific standpoint is the comparatively 
recent one of Louise Lateau.” Next to St. Francis this is un- 
doubtedly the most famous case. Louise Lateau was born 
at Bois d’Haine, Belgium, in 1850, and died in 1883. Up to 
seventeen years of age she was healthy, worked hard, had 
good common sense with power of self-control, and showed 
no traces of hysterical tendencies. At this time she had an 
exhausting illness, and in April, 1868, she was thought to be 
dying and received the sacrament. After this she recovered 
rapidly, so that in five days she was able to walk three- 
quarters of a mile to the village church. ‘This was considered 
miraculous. Three days later, on Friday, the stigmata ap- 
peared and she discovered blood flowing from a wound in 
her side. The following Friday her feet were stigmatized, 
and one week later bleeding from the backs and palms of the 
hands took place. About four months after this there were 


1 Encyclopedia Britannica, Art. “‘Stigmatization.”’ 
2See G. E. Day, “Louise Lateau—A Biological Study,” Mac- 
millan’s Magazine, XXIII, pp. 488-498, for a concise account. 


86 STIGMATIZATION 


added the marks of thorns on her forehead, which was moist 
with blood. ‘These hemorrhages, during which there was a 
loss of about seven-eighths of a quart of blood, continued 
every Friday for at least four years. On other days these 
wounds were red patches, dry, glistening, and painless. Dr. 
Warloment examined her six years later and found that the 
stigmatic areas had become continuously painful, and that 
there was an additional mark on the right shoulder. 

The anatomical process in her case was a rather complicated 
one. Blisters first appeared, and after they burst there was 
bleeding from the true skin without any visible injury. At 
the time of the beginning of the stigmatization ecstasy also 
commenced. ‘This was confined to Fridays. Between eight 
and nine in the morning it began abruptly and she became 
apparently unconscious. She had a vision which she remem- 
bered on awaking, and enacted the Passion according to the 
time of day, until at three o’clock in the afternoon she extended 
her limbs in the form of a cross. This state terminated with 
extreme physical prostration, after which she returned to her 
normal condition. 

This case has undergone a scrutiny so careful on the part 
of medical men determined to find out the deceit, if such 
should exist, that there seems no adequate reason for doubt- 
ing its genuineness. The Belgian pathologist, Warloment, 
after personal investigation, decided that simulation was im- 
possible and diagnosed her case as “‘stigmatic neuropathy.” 
In this the Salpétriére School of Neurology agreed, and took 
the position that stigmatization is only a neurotic phenomenon 
in hysterical individuals. Dr. Lefebvre, an eminent physician, 
Professor of Medicine at the University of Louvain, who had 
been for many years in attendance at two insane asylums, 
after a prolonged investigation pronounced it miraculous. 
Theodor Schwann, the distinguished biologist, also a professor 
at Louvain, and himself a Roman Catholic, refused after 


STIGMATIZATION 87 


careful examination to admit the preternatural character of 
the phenomena. Virchow thought that fraud or miracle 
were the only alternatives. With the additional light which 
we have had thrown on the phenomena by the experimental 
data of hypnotism, neurologists would hardly disagree on a 
similar case to-day. Louise Lateau was a member of the third 
order of St. Francis. 

Many more cases might be cited, but I will simply add a 
very brief account of a recent one. A remarkable American 
case was reported in the Courier-Journal of Louisville, Ky., 
December 7, 1891, on the authority of Dr. M. F. Coomes and 
several other physicians. Mrs. Stuckenborg had bled from 
spontaneously formed stigmata on every Friday from the 
beginning of June of that year. There were wounds on 
her hands and feet, a wound on her side (whence issued a 
watery exudation tinged with blood), a cross on her forehead, 
a large cross and a heart on her chest, and the letters I. H. S. 
on her right shoulder. Simulation was quite out of the ques- 
tion. The patient seemed to desire neither money nor 
notoriety. She was a devout Roman Catholic, but did not 
talk about religion. She complained much of the pain and 
exhaustion due to the wounds and to a convulsive trance 
which accompanied the bleeding every Friday.’ 

Many young converts are much affected by the story of 
Jesus’ crucifixion, some almost to the point of stigmatization. 
‘“‘Some press nails against their hands to deepen their sym- 
pathy, and one describes how a painful wound in the centre 
of the palm ‘brought me to Jesus.’ The spear is less prom- 
inent, but every item and detail of its thrust is sometimes 
exquisitely if not neurotically felt. With some the thorns are 
the apex of the pathos, with others the scourging.” ? 


1F. W. H. Myers, Human Personality and its Survival of Bodily 
Death, I, p. 495. 
7G. S. Hall, Adolescence, II, p. 334. 


88 STIGMATIZATION 


Hawthorne, in his masterpiece, The Scarlet Letter, makes 
use of the pathological phenomenon of stigmatization. In 
the climax of the story the conscience-smitten clergyman ap- 
pears on the scaffold with the letter in blood red upon his 
naked breast, a duplicate of the one which his paramour was 
forced by the law to wear embroidered upon her breast. 


CHAPTER IX 
WITCHCRAFT 


‘And so with shrieks, 
She melted into air.”—SHAKESPEARE. 


In the history of demonology we can easily recognize the 
development of this doctrine along two clearly defined lines. 
In some instances the demon was supposed to enter the in- 
dividual and control him so that he would be unable to act ac- 
cording to his own desires; this was called Demoniacal Posses- 
sion. At other times the person was thought to be in league 
with the devil to control the demon and use it to further 
malignant or benevolent designs; this was called Witchcraft. 
Both forms of this belief are very old and were firmly held by 
primitive peoples. Demoniacal Possession is still believed 
to be possible by some persons in orthodox churches, and is 
affirmed as the explanation of certain phenomena in the early 
centuries of the Christian era. Although an old woman was 
burned as a witch in Russia as late as 1889, and another old 
woman endeavored to bewitch a man in Georgia in 1890," 
witchcraft is not accepted as a part of general or of Christian 
belief. ‘Two centuries ago, however, both in Europe and 
America, witchcraft was held to be more essential to Christian 
doctrine than demoniacal possession is to-day. Disbelief in 
witches was synonymous with infidelity, so thought Luther 
and John Wesley. ‘The latter said, ‘Infidels know, whether 
Christians know it or not, that the giving up of witchcraft is 
the giving up of the Bible.” 

1W. S. Nevins, Witchcraft in Salem Village in 1692, p. 22. 

89 


90 WITCHCRAFT 


In early times witchcraft was a form of magic, and was thus 
connected with sorcery and conjury. The crabbedness and 
idiosyncrasies of age, misfortunes, deformities, and strange 
actions were considered symptoms of witchcraft. This was 
especially true if the suspected person were an old woman. 
Bodin estimates the proportion of witches to wizards as not 
less than fifty to one.’ People now known as neighbourhood 
gossips, who are always interfering with other persons’ busi- 
ness, who tell secrets of the past and prognosticate concern- 
ing the future, who warn different persons in the village of 
the certain miscarriage of plans, and who make themselves 
generally obnoxious, would have had to answer to the accusa- 
tions of witchcraft a few centuries ago, and might have given 
up their lives to atone for unusual conduct. 

Witches were persons supposed to have made a compact 
with the devil to torture God’s people and sometimes to put 
them to death. Prior to the seventeenth century they were 
thought to possess power to remove diseases as well as to 
inflict them, and they were consulted for this purpose. The 
removal might be by supposed transfer from the one consult- 
ing them to some one whom they disliked, nevertheless it 
sometimes resulted in a cure. Diseases could be transferred 
to animals as well as to persons, and at one time cattle seldom 
died of any other trouble than witchcraft; this was sure to be 
the cause if an epidemic appeared in a herd. The trouble 
brought on by one witch might be removed by another. 
Witchcraft was such a serious crime that persons were burned 
at the stake for curing as well as causing diseases to cattle and 
men.” 

Many witches were charged with signing a book presented 
to them for signature by his Satanic Majesty, this signature 
being done at times in blood. They were ove power to 


1H. Ellis, Man and Woman, p. 261. 
Teh Sharp, The History of Witchcrajt in Scotland, pp. 45 and 97. 


WITCHCRAFT ol 


ride through the air, not always on brooms, especially if they 
were going to attend a meeting of kindred spirits; they then 
resorted to desolate localities, where they held a sabbath or 
religious festival. They offered worship to Satan, who was 
present, and had criminal relations with him, the principal 
part of the worship being the Black Mass, an inversion and 
parody of the ceremony of the mass. In this it was not un- 
like the present-day cult of Satanism, which is said to have 
had its principal adherents in the ill-fated city of Saint Pierre, 
Martinique.’ 

It was said that witches could transform themselves into 
animals, especially when they were going to perform their 
supernatural deeds.” Hares and cats were the animals most 
usually employed, but also hogs, dogs, wolves, goats, or birds 
might be used. They seemed to take great delight in tor- 
menting and terrifying men, women, and children, and were 
supposed to feed on the flesh of the latter when attending 
banquets with the devil. Magical potions were employed in 
which toads, snakes, and other reptiles were used in the prep- 
aration. The witch might tie knots in ropes while repeating 
certain formule, and by this means a victim was strangled, 
his mouth sealed, limbs racked, or entrails torn.* Effigies 
were made of some soft material like wax, and either burned 
or injured by running long needles into them; this tortured 
the original of the effigy whom it was desired to afflict. In- 
visible needles might be run into persons without the aid of 
figures made to represent them. The evil eye fixed on 
victims was sure to produce disastrous results. Not only did 
witches injure people and animals, but their powers and 
spells extended further. They blasted corn, grapes, fruit, 
and herbs in the fields, and spoiled milk, eggs, and butter in 


1 New International Encyclopedia, Art. ‘‘ Witchcraft.” ? Thid. 
30. C. Whitehouse, “Magic,” Hastings’ Bible Dictionary, III, pp. 
206 ff. 


92 WITCHCRAFT 


the farmyards. Perhaps the extraordinary powers attributed 
to witches can best be shown by reciting a few brief cases. 

In 1657, Richard Jones, a lad of twelve years, living at 
Shepton Mallet, England, was bewitched by one Jane Brooks. 
He was seen to rise in the air and pass over a garden wall 
some thirty yards. At one time he was found in a room 
with his hands flat against a beam at the top of the room, and 
his body two or three feet from the ground; nine people saw 
him in this position. Jane Brooks was accordingly condemned 
and executed at the Chard Assizes, in March, 1658.' 

In 1664, at Saint Edmondsbury, Suffolk, two widows, 
Amy Duny and Rose Cullender, were indicted for bewitching 
six young girls and one baby boy. ‘The country doctor, on 
being consulted when the baby had fainting fits, told the 
mother to hang the baby’s blanket on the chimney corner all 
day, and at night if anything strange came from it not to fear 
but to throw it in the fre. When the blanket was taken down 
a toad fell out, and on being cast into the fire there was a 
flash and an explosion, and the toad vanished. ‘That same 
evening Amy Duny had her face scorched. That proved 
that Amy was the toad. The baby’s sister became suddenly 
sick and died, and the mother became so lame that she had 
to use crutches; this was thought to be Amy’s revenge for 
being cast into the fire. When Amy was condemned and her 
power ceased, the lame woman threw away her crutches and 
was well; this demonstrated Amy’s guilt. The other chil- 
dren complained of “griping pains, and vomited crooked 
pins and two-penny nails.” At the trial the children had 
convulsions when approached by the women, but were like- 
wise convulsed when blindfolded and approached by others. 
Nevertheless the other evidence was so strong that the widows 
were sentenced and hanged at Cambridge.” 


‘W. B. Carpenter, Mental Physiology, p. 634. 
? John Fiske, New France and New England, p. 138. 


WITCHCRAFT 93 


In 1692, at Salem, Mass., Susannah Martin was condemned 
for witchcraft because she walked over a muddy country 
road on a rainy day without soiling her hose or skirts; this 
could only be accomplished by the help of the devil.’ 

In 1696, at Bargarran, Renfrewshire, Scotland, Christian 
Shaw, a girl of eleven years, had violent fits of leaping, 
dancing, running, crying, and fainting, from August of that 
year to the following March. Witchcraft was suspected, a 
commission was appointed, and a court was instituted. 
After the trial twenty women were condemned to the flames, 
and the sentence was faithfully executed on five of them at 
Paisley, on June 10, 1697.” 

In 1716, Mrs. Hicks and her daughter aged nine years 
were hanged at Huntington, England, “for selling their 
souls to the devil; tormenting and destroying their neighbours 
by making them vomit pins; raising a storm so that a ship 
was almost lost by pulling off her stockings and making a 
lather soap.” ° 

_It seems remarkable to us in these days that persons could 
be convicted of witchcraft, and we are liable to question the 
honesty of the courts. Before doing this it is well for us to 
consider the evidence. The evidence was undoubtedly 
sufficiently strong had it been good; the sources would be 
considered unreliable to-day, but in those days were thought 
to be thoroughly trustworthy. We must remember that 
judges, juries, prosecutors, accused, and spectators believed 
in witchcraft as an established fact, and the disposition to 
believe in it changed irrelevant facts into evidence in its 
favor. The supposition, then, was in favor of conviction, 
for if witchcraft were a fact some one must be guilty, and the 


1 John Fiske, New France and New England, p. 168. 

2J. F. C. Hecker, The Epidemics of the Middle Ages, p. 108; W. 
Scott, Letters on Demonology and Witchcraft, pp. 268 ff. 

°C. Knight, History of England, Ch. CXLIV. 


94 WITCHCRAFT 


accused were most likely to be the ones. Roger North tells 
of one poor old woman who was accused of witchcraft by a 
neighbour. This neighbour testified that he saw a cat jump 
into the accused person’s cottage window at twilight, one 
evening, and that he verily believed the said cat to be the 
devil; on this weighty evidence the poor wretch was accord- 
ingly hanged.’ 

We must further remember that the phenomena of hallu- 
cinations, trance, hypnotism, and hysteria were entirely un- 
known, and what to us is a ready explanation was wanting to 
them. If the judges were sure that there was no fraud con- 
nected with the case, guilt was the only alternative. The 
evidence was of four kinds: 1. Fraud; this was a small pro- 
portion. 2. Suspicion of some stranger or queer acting 
person to explain the trouble. 3. Genuine and trustworthy 
evidence of the facts supposed to prove witchcraft. It is 
notorious that this was almost entirely from uneducated 
persons and children. 4. Confessions, frequently extracted 
by torture or intimidation. An enormous mass of evidence 
was of this character. 

There was, of course, opportunity for fraud. During the 
most active part of the witchcraft persecutions the Church of 
Rome was trying to stamp out heresy, and persons obnoxious 
to it could be destroyed on this charge. In some cases a 
charge of witchcraft was only a method of getting rid of a 
personal enemy or of confiscating the property of the rich. 
Sometimes the accusation started with deceit devoid of malice, 
but after starting the rumor the accusers became involved to 
such an extent that it was necessary to continue the deceit to 
save themselves even if it destroyed others. This was prob- 
ably the situation in the Salem cases.” It may also be true 


*W. Scott, Letters on Demonology and Witchcraft, p. 217. 
7See also case W. Scott, Letters on Demonology and Witchcrajt, pp. 


193 ff. 


WITCHCRAFT 95 


that in these cases the girls were so excited and carried along 
by their imaginations and the suggestions of others that they 
came to believe what at first was their own mere fancy. 

Salem reveals a partisan factor in the accusations. The 
first evidence was given by the daughter and niece of Samuel 
Parris, the minister, Elizabeth Parris, aged nine, and Abigail 
Williams, aged eleven, and the daughter of the parish clerk, 
Ann: Putnam, aged twelve. Mrs. Putnam, mother of Ann, 
a neurotic from a mentally unsound family, did much to 
influence the girls. From the beginning, Parris was the 
prime mover and persecutor in the awful tragedy. If the 
girls or other young witnesses were called upon to say who 
had troubled them, they would naturally think of those of 
whom they had heard uncomplimentary things said at home. 

There was a quarrel in Parris’ church and he had a rival 
for the pastorate in George Burroughs, a noble man who dis- 
believed in and openly expressed his contempt for witch- 
craft. Parris seized this opportunity to rid himself of his 
enemy by the aid of the superstition of the community, but 
at the execution of Burroughs the people broke into moans 
and moved to rescue him. Giles Corey, the octogenarian 
martyr who alone suffered death by the pressing of heavy 
stones piled on him, was one who opposed Parris in the 
church quarrel. It is a very significant fact that out of the 
first seventy-five persons arrested and sent to prison, not one 
partisan of Parris was among them; this may be true of the 
total number. - With these facts before us, it is difficult to 
exclude the idea of malice from the persecution. 

Salem presents us with a paradox, if not another instance 
of fraud. It would be humorous if it were not so tragic. 
The real crime seems to have been not witchcraft, but the 
denial of the doctrine. The truth of the writing and preach- 
ing on the subject was to be established by hanging any one 
who denied it. Any one who confessed witchcraft was freed 


06 WITCHCRAFT 


—this was sure to procure liberation; it was the person who 
denied being a witch, or who denied the existence of such a 
thing, who suffered death. Edward Bishop cured John 
Indian, his accuser, who fell down before him pretending to 
be under Satanic influence, with a sound flogging, and said 
that he could heal the others who were afflicted in the same 
manner. He and his wife were immediately arrested and 
condemned.' What for? Not for witchcraft, but for dis- 
belief in it. Yet there is one bright spot in the sad affair. 
Although some of the accused were terrified into a confession 
and liberated, every one of the twenty who were put to death 
died protesting innocence when they knew confession would 
have saved them. If the people of America, or of Massa- 
chusetts, ever wish to raise a shaft to martyrs who died for 
the truth, it should be placed at Salem. 

By misrepresentation Cotton Mather suffered only second 
to the victims.” In practically all accounts of the Salem 
tragedy he is represented as the tyrant who inspired and 
assisted Parris, accused the innocent, and relentlessly drove 
the executioners to their cruel tasks. Most recent investiga- 
tion seems to disprove all this. As a man he had a loving 
heart and generous sympathies. He believed in witchcraft, 
as most persons did; but had his rules of evidence been fol- 
lowed, not one execution would have taken place. He be- 
lieved in treating cases privately, and so took little Martha 
Goodwin into his own home and cured her. Parris’ method 
was publicity, force, and execution; Mather’s was privacy, 
suasion, and only execution when necessary and when no 
uncertainty prevailed. Cotton Mather has been for two 
centuries much misunderstood, a maligned Christian gentle- 
man. Had Mather been in control in Salem, the last witch 

1 J. C. Ridpath, Hzstory of the United States, Ch. XVI, p. 151. 


? J. Fiske, New France and New England, pp. 150 ff.; cf. J. C. Rid- 
path, History of the United States, Ch. XVI, pp. 151 ff. 


WITCHCRAFT 97 


epidemic in the history of civilized nations would never have 
existed. 

Something further must be said concerning the evidence. 
King James I, who published a treatise on demonology in 
1597, in speaking on this subject, says that the crime is so 
abominable that evidence which would not be received 
against any other offence may prove this. Young children 
who knew not the nature of an oath and persons of infamous 
character were sufficient witnesses against witches. If James 
could have written of Salem he could not have more correctly 
described the witnesses. Look at them—two barbarous 
Indians, John Indian and Titula, both saturated in demon- 
ology, nine girls between the ages of nine and twenty, and 
the vindictive and half-crazed Mrs. Putnam. While Ann 
Putnam was a child of but twelve years and descended from 
a family afflicted with nervousness and hysteria, her power of 
life and death for a few months exceeded that of judge and 
jury. In the whole history of witchcraft, children have been 
the principal witnesses, the reason for this being their sug- 
gestibleness. 

During the crusade against witchcraft certain experts arose 
who procured evidence, and instructed others in the best 
methods of discovering criminals. Certain statements were 
sufficient to condemn, and in Europe, otherwise than in Sa- 
lem, it was witchcraft which was the crime rather than the de- 
nial of the doctrine. The witch finders had certain questions 
which they always asked the suspects, e. g., “Do you have 
midnight meetings with the devil?” “‘Do you attend witches’ 
sabbaths?” “Can you produce whirlwinds?” Nor would 
they be satisfied with negative answers, but the most excru- 
ciating tortures were employed to elicit affirmations. 

As an example of the refinement to which the art of torture 
developed, the experience of Dr. Fian, of Edinburg, in rsgr1, 
maybe cited. After the rack proved ineffectual, the boots were 


98 WITCHCRAFT 


tried, and during this he fainted from pain. Later his finger- 
nails were riven out with pincers, and long needles thrust 
their entire length into the quick. Again he was consigned 
to the boots and was kept there ‘‘so long, and abode so many 
blows in them that his legs were crushed and beaten together 
as small as might be, and the bones and flesh so bruised that 
the blood and marrow spouted forth in great abundance.” * 

The awful condition of the accused may be gathered from the 
following quotation: ‘‘In Europe the act of suicide was very 
common among the witches, who underwent all the sufferings 
with none of the consolations of martyrdom. Without en- 
thusiasm, without hope, without even the consciousness of 
innocence, decrepit in body, and distracted in mind, com- 
pelled in this world to endure torture, before which the most 
impassioned heroism might quail, and doomed, as they often 
believed, to eternal damnation in the next, they not infre- 
quently killed themselves in the agony of despair. A French 
judge, named Remy, tells us that he knew no less than 
fifteen witches commit suicide in a single year.”’* Spren- 
ger noticed the same tendency among the witches he 
tried. 

Witches were supposed to be unable to repeat the Lord’s 
Prayer, although Burroughs did on the scaffold at Salem; 
even the faltering pronunciation of one word was sufficient 
to prove guilt. If the spectre of a person was seen by a 
neighbor this was sufficient to prove the former a witch. 
This was called ‘‘spectral evidence.” At Salem, Parris 
preached on the text, ‘‘Have not I chosen you twelve and 
one of you is a devil?’”?’ One woman went out of church, 
and she was immediately sent to prison as a witch. No more 
than three tears could be shed by the guilty, no matter how 
hard they tried, and water, the element with which a person 


1B. Sidis, The Psychology of Suggestion, p. 335. 
?W. E. H. Lecky, History of European Morals, Il, p. 54. 


WITCHCRAFT 99 


was baptized, refused to receive the body of a witch. Mat- 
thew Hopkins,’ the English ‘‘Witchfinder General,’ used 
the latter as a favorite test. He took the suspected person 
and tied the right thumb to the great toe of the left foot, and 
the left thumb to the great toe of the right foot. Then wrap- 
ping the victims in heavy blankets they were laid on their 
backs in a pond or river. If they sank and were drowned, 
they were innocent; but if they floated they were guilty, and 
were speedily taken out and burned alive. One of the surest 
tests was the finding of witch spots. These were spots on 
persons which were painless when needles were run into the 
flesh. Hence the witchfinders carried with them long 
needles which they used on those who were accused. By 
evidence such as this and procured in this barbarous fashion, 
about 300,000 persons perished from the witchcraft crusade 
in the 16th and 17th centuries. Children as young as five 
years, and even dogs, lost their lives on this charge.” 

How can these facts be explained psychologically? The 
main factor in the explanation, the phemonenon of mental 
epidemics, must be left for future discussion with other ex- 
periences of a similar character. However, some of the 
minor and yet important facts call for treatment here. In 
discussing the evidence, we have already mentioned some of 
the causes at Salem—the general belief in witchcraft, the 
malice of Parris, and the unintentional part which the Salem 
girls at first took. On the latter point let me add this fact: 
in 1688 a woman named Goodwin was tried and sent to the 
gallows for bewitching some children in Boston. It is not 
unlikely that an account of the antics of the Boston children 
was recited in the Salem minister’s home, and by suggestion, 
either voluntarily or involuntarily, the same antics were re- 


1W. Scott, Letters on Demonology and Witchcraft, pp. 206-211; 
B. Sidis, Psychology of Suggestion, p. 338 }. 
2W. Scott, Letters on Demonology and Witchcrajt, p. 226. 


100 WITCHCRAFT 


peated by the children who heard it there. The impression- 
able child minds were diseased by the very suggestion. 

But back of this, before the Salem tragedy, before the 
European epidemic, some other explanation must be given. 
The persons who propounded the witch theory were the 
forerunners of the modern scientist; they tried to give a 
theory which would explain. Of course we recognize now 
that their reasoning was post hoc ergo propter hoc, but in 
that they have had the company of many scientists of high 
repute. To the primitive mind all death was murder, and 
the guilty was either some superhuman power whose good 
will the tribe must try to regain, or some human being who 
must be punished. Thus, when sickness or some other dis- 
aster came to primitive people, they naturally asked, ‘‘ What 
is the cause?” or, as it would frame itself in the savage mind, 
“Who is the cause?”’ No other cause being suggested, when 
the search becomes hot some one mentions a sorceress who 
claims to accomplish much by her spells. Suggestion imme- 
diately becomes belief on account of the emotional state of 
the people, and then the blame is fixed. Witchcraft there- 
fore became an established fact, and later when disaster 
could be accounted for in no other way, this was a ready 
explanation, and there was no difficulty in discovering the 
witch. ‘This state of affairs was much exaggerated by the 
doctrine, amounting almost to an equal belief in a good and 
an evil divinity. 

A scrutiny of the evidence will reveal further that the 
testimony was not only almost entirely that of women and 
children, but it was given at a time when their minds were 
disordered by the excited state of the community, and when 
suggestions were given one day which developed into evidence 
on the next. Concerning the miraculous powers of riding 
through the air and transformation into animals, there is no 
first-hand evidence, even from the most illiterate, that these 


WITCHCRAFT IOI 


were ever witnessed. The latter belief probably came as a 
false inference, as in the case of Amy Duny, the suspected 
witch who was injured on the day when the animal asso- 
ciated with her was injured. 

The most valuable evidence was that given by the accused 
in the form of voluntary confession, that which had not been 
extracted by torture.!_ The evidence was true to the best of 
the knowledge and belief of the witness. The witness was 
sane enough, but was unable to distinguish self-suggested hal- 
lucinations from waking facts, for we know that subjective 
hallucinations may appear absolutely real to the percipient. 
Hallucinations may easily be produced by hypnotic sugges- 
tion, and are also frequent in spontaneous trance and hysteria, 
both of which latter conditions are contagious, and all of 
which were no doubt frequently present in witchcraft. Not 
only at the time of the hysterical attacks, but after they had 
passed, these persons believed in the reality of the halluci- 
natory scenes. On this account they confessed all manner of 
strange sins and endured with stubborn firmness the pangs of 
martyrdom rather than renounce their belief in their inter- 
course with the devil and their participation in orgies which 
had taken place only in their hysterical hallucinations.’ 
This is why the questioning of the witchfinders was at times 
so successful. Occasionally some confessed, preferring death 
to the ignominy which would always cling to them on ac- 
count of the accusation which had been made against them.* 
It is also true that because of the excited state of the com- 
munity many confessed witchcraft on the testimony of 
others. : 7 

The witch spots, called ‘‘stigmata diaboli,” those insen- 
sible patches on the bodies of the suspected, were undoubt- 

1W. Scott, Letters on Demonology and Witchcrajt, pp. 123-130. 


?E. Parish, Hallucinations and Illusions, p. 36. 
*W. Scott, Letters on Demonology and Witchcrajt, p. 239. 


102 WITCHCRAFT 


edly really anesthetic.’ This was the first discovery of a 
phenomenon which is now well known, the zones analgésiques 
of hysterical and hypnotic patients, so carefully studied by 
Charcot. In fact, in hysteria, spontaneous analgesia is the 
rule. It varies in degree, position, and extent, not only in 
different persons, but in the same person at different times.’ 
We can now see that witchcraft was an awful mistake, a 
great tragedy conducted at the expense of hysterical persons 
by ignorant inquisitors. All of the phenomena are common 
to-day, but we explain them differently. The experiments 
made upon the hysterical might have been scientifically 
valuable had they not resulted in such murderous conclu- 
sions. Occasionally we find some evidence of perspicacity 
on the part of the court. At Ipswich, in 1652, John Brad- 
street confessed to having conversation with the devil, where- 
upon the jury found that the said Bradstreet lied, and the 
judge sentenced him to pay a fine of twenty shillings, or to 
be whipped.’ 

If we examine the general decline in the belief in witch- 
craft we find that it was not killed by discussion or argu- 
ment, but it perished by neglect on the one hand, and by the 
development of science and natural law on the other. Salem 
shows us an epidemic reaction—the people were stunned by 
the awfulness of the affair, and a change came in a few weeks 
or months. This was first apparent among the common 
people, for the juries changed before the judges and failed 
to convict, and the judges changed before the clergy, although 
before this the clergy warned the judges not to rely upon 
‘spectral evidence” nor upon physical effects wrought upon 
the accusers in the presence of the accused. Increase Math- 


‘F. W. H. Myers, Human Personality and its Survival of Bodily 
Death, I, p. 4. 

*T. Ribot, The Psychology of the Emotions, p. 32. 

* J. Fiske, New France and New England, p. 148. 


WITCHCRAFT 103 


er’s discovery that the accusers, rather than the accused, 
might be the real victims of Satan’s wiles, did much to end 
the persecutions.’ 

The last legal execution for witchcraft in England took 
place in 1682. Lynching for this supposed crime was com- 
mitted as late as 1751; this led to the immediate abolition of 
the statute of James I.” In the last trial the judge saved the 
victim. Jane Wenham, the witch of Walkerne, was found 
guilty under the statute of James I, and was condemned to die 
in March, 1712. ‘The prosecutors were Sir Henry Chauncy, 
knight, the learned author of the Historical Antiquities oj 
Hertfordshire, and the reverend incumbent of Jane Wen- 
ham’s parish. The judge, Powell, was happily in advance 
of his times and reprieved the unfortunate creature, very 
much to the scandal of the stupid jury and the learned 
prosecutors.* The last execution of a Scottish witch took 
place in Sutherland in 1722, and in 1735 the statutes against 
witchcraft were repealed. In Germany, Maria Renata, a 
nun, was beheaded for witchcraft in 1749. The last case 
of witchcraft in Massachusetts was in 1793, when the gover- 
nor abolished trials, and juries failed to convict.° 


1G. P. Fisher, History of the Christian Church, p. 480. 

*,W. Scott, Letters on Demonology and Witchcrajt, pp. 218 and 221. 

*C. Knight, History of England, Chap. CXLIV. 

‘J. Fiske, New France and New England, p. 143. 

5W.S. Nevins, Witchcraft in Salem Village in 1692, p. 30. The 
reader will find a most interesting and instructive résumé of the 
Witchcraft epidemic in C. Mackay, Extraordinary Popular Delusions, 
II, pp. 101-191. 


CHAPTER X 
DEMONIACAL POSSESSION 


“Diseased nature oft-times breaks forth 
In strange eruptions.” —SHAKESPEARE. 


In some form demoniacal possession is accepted by many 
Christian people to-day. Some think that it is experienced 
at the present time by certain persons everywhere, others 
opine that the manifestations are confined to heathen coun- 
tries. Some believe it is possible, but do not credit any 
specific examples; while others hold that the day of posses- 
sion is past, but that it was a special manifestation at the 
beginning of the Christian era. 

One might reasonably ask why witchcraft is now con- 
sidered a relic of barbarism and ignorance, while demoniacal 
possession is still retained, when they are both forms of de- 
monology closely related. If any difference is to be noted 
from a scientific standpoint, witchcraft has rather the more 
convincing evidence. Both are taught in the Bible, and the 
Mosaic command, “‘’Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live,” 
was the foundation for the great persecution in the Middle 
Ages. ‘There is no similar command concerning demoniacs. 
The difference in the status of the two doctrines, however, is 
due to the importance which Jesus seemed to attach to the 
one and His silence concerning the other. 

Some Christians believe that to eliminate demoniacal pos- 
session from their tenets would entail a lack of faith in Jesus 
as the Saviour, just as Wesley and Mather thought that to 
give up witchcraft was to give up the Bible. Witchcraft has 


104 


DEMONIACAL POSSESSION 105 


been given up and the Bible still stands; some to-day do not 
posit the influence of demons as the cause of certain phenomena 
and yet they cling to Jesus as the Saviour. Both the Bible and 
our Saviour are stronger than some of their friends believe, 
and do not succumb when a doubtful prop is removed. 

Let us first consider briefly the relation of Jesus to demon- 
ism. ‘There is no doubt that in the reports we have of Jesus’ 
connection with demoniacs He acts and speaks as though 
He believed it were a genuine phenomenon caused by the 
influence of evil spirits. We must not forget, however, that 
the reporters’ minds were filled with the current ideas of 
demonism. There seems at first sight to be no middle 
ground—no halting-place—between the view that what Jesus 
said must be true, and that His attitude toward demoniacal 
possession was an example of the theory of Kenosis, 7. ¢., 
that in the incarnation He limited His knowledge to that of 
mankind. The theory of accommodation is the only half- 
way house. In this theory its advocates claim that Jesus, 
while knowing the true state of the case, accommodated 
Himself to the people among whom He worked and the 
language of the times in which He lived. In speaking of the 
afflicted as demoniacs He no more believed they were pos- 
sessed by demons than a person to-day believes that an un- 
fortunate is moon-struck if he calls him a lunatic;* the 
limitations of the language and the understanding of the 
people are to blame. 

The supposed connection between possession and mental 
derangement in New Testament times is shown in John ro: 20, 
“He hath a demon and is.mad.” 

Further, in His dealings with demoniacs He used the only 
language which psychologically could possibly be successful 


‘Consult T. H. Wright, ‘Lunatic,’ Hastings’ Dictionary of Christ, 
etc., II, pp. 91 ff.; and W. O. E. Oesterley, “Demon,” Jdzd, I, pp. 
438 ff 


106 DEMONIACAL POSSESSION 


if a cure were to be accomplished, and language which would 
be both proper and efficacious in dealing with a mentally 
unsound person to-day. Insanity was quite common in the 
East, and yet we do not read of Jesus’ curing one case. ‘The 
symptoms of demoniacal possession given in the New Testa- 
ment and those of mania and epilepsy correspond so closely 
that many think these cases were similar to modern cases, 
only that a different explanation was given. When we come 
to consider the part which demons were supposed to play in 
disease, this will become more apparent. One ingenious 
theory, which hardly fits the case, however, takes account of 
this in the following manner: The phenomena of the New 
Testament are genuine and consist of two factors; the first is 
insanity and epilepsy, and forms the natural element, cases 
of which were successfully used by demons. The super- 
natural element was the recognition and confession of Jesus 
as the Messiah; this was the characteristic part—the mark 
of demoniacal possession.’ We leave this discussion to take 
up a description of the phenomena. 

The belief in demoniacal possession (this term is not found 
in the New Testament, but originated with Josephus) existed 
in the ancient civilizations of Egypt, Babylonia, Persia, Judea, 
Greece, and Rome. It held an important place in the beliefs 
of Christian nations until the end of the eighteenth century, 
is held by a portion of Christian people to-day, and by the 
mass of the inhabitants of India and of China, and almost 
without exception among uncivilized tribes. Demons at 
first included both good and evil spirits, but later angels were 
differentiated, and the term is now used only for the emis- 
saries of the devil. ‘The theory would be a natural explana- 
tion of certain forms of disease among people who believed 


1 Alexander, Demonic Possession in the New Testament, pp. 121, 150, 
quoted by W. Fairweather, “Development of Doctrine in the Apoc- 
ryphal Period,” Hastings’ Bible Dictionary, V, p. 290. 


DEMONIACAL POSSESSION 107 


in the possibility of spirits entering men. In cases of hysteria, 
epilepsy, and insanity, with raving and convulsions, the per- 
son does not seem to be himsel}, but it appears that some 
other being is in possession of the body, and even the patient 
may believe this when he returns to his normal condition. 
Again, when severe internal pain is experienced, or when the 
patient is wasting away without any apparent cause, this may 
be ascribed to some unseen being gnawing or devouring one 
within. 

In the New Testament demoniacal possession is associated 
with diseases of different kinds, e. g., dumbness, deafness, 
blindness, epilepsy, and fevers. We find a typical case of epi- 
lepsy described in Matt. 17:15, Mark 9:18, and Luke 9: 38. 
Notice the symptoms: the cry, falling down, being convulsed, 
foaming at the mouth, grinding his teeth, bruising himself 
sorely, sometimes falling into the fire and sometimes into the 
water, and becoming as one dead; no medical work could enu- 
merate the symptoms better. In Matthew’s account the father 
speaks of the son as an epileptic, but the other two evan- 
gelists speak of a spirit. These are not inconsistent, for the 
very term “epilepsy” shows that in early times it was always 
considered the work of a demon, for it means “‘seizure,”’ 7. e., 
by a demon. Fevers, especially intermittent fevers, where 
the rhythm of the fever apparently indicated some intelligent 
action back of the disease, were usually ascribed to demons; 
and anything of an unhealthy nature, such as an uncanny 
expression, especially of the eyes, was attributed to the same 
cause. Demons were supposed to be able to pass into ani- 
mals as well as into men, and were able to speak and exer- 
cise mastery over the vocal organs and over other parts of 
the bodies of the victims. 

Among those who wrote subsequent to New Testament 
times, demons were supposed to be responsible for insanity, 
epilepsy, and phenomena illustrated by the sacred frenzy of 


108 DEMONIACAL POSSESSION 


the orgiastic worship of Bacchus. Among the Jews the 
exorcism of demons was a recognized profession, but among 
early Christians this power was exercised generally, without 
special authorization, down to the middle of the third century. 
Pope Fabian (236-250) seems to have been the first to assign 
a definite name and functions to exorcists as a separate 
order. These functions may now be used by any Roman 
Catholic priest, since his priesthood ordination includes that 
of exorcist. In many dioceses, however, the special permis- 
sion of the bishop is required for the exercise of this solemn 
rite. Among the reformers, opinion and practice were 
divided concerning exorcism; Luther and Melanchthon 
favored it, but it was decisively rejected by Zwingli and 
Calvin.? 

In most instances demoniacal possession is met with in 
isolated cases, but in the Middle Ages it appeared in epidemic 
form. In this it resembled witchcraft. In fact, it appeared 
sometimes in connection with witchcraft, the supposed witch 
being guilty of witchcraft and the bewitched being the victim 
of demoniacal possession. In 1350 an epidemic of this char- 
acter attacked the convent of St. Brigitta, in Xanthen, and 
lasted for ten years. About the same time a convent near 
Cologne and others were also affected. The nuns declared 
that they were visited by the devil and had carnal conversa- 
tion with him. ‘These and other ‘‘possessed” wretches were 
sometimes thrown into dungeons and sometimes burned. In 
the sixteenth century such epidemics broke out in Branden- 
burg and in Holland and in Italy. These were also prin- 
cipally confined to the convents. 

In 1609 and the two following years the convent of the 
Ursulines at Aix was the scene of such an experience. Two 


1 New International Encyclopedia, Art. ‘ Exorcism.” 
7Q. C. Whitehouse, ‘Exorcism,’ Hastings’ Bible Dictionary, I, 
p. 811 f. 


DEMONIACAL POSSESSION TOg 


possessed nuns, tormented by all kinds of apparitions, ac- 
cused a priest of witchcraft, on which charge he was burned 
to death. The famous case of the Ursuline nuns at Loudun, 
some twenty-five years later, led to a like tragic conclusion.’ 
The superior of this convent was Sceur Jeanne des Anges, 
and her experience with demons was most vivid and realistic. 
Her belief in her own possession as well as in that of the nuns 
was so strong that although at one time she was a most ardent 
admirer, she was afterward the fiercest enemy of the unfort- 
unate Urbain Grandier, who was burned alive in 1634, on 
the charge of bewitching the nuns. The demons who pos- 
sessed her she called by name, e. g., Asmodeus, Leviathan, 
Behemoth, Isacaarous, Balaam, Gresil, and Aman, and 
recognized them by their words and orthography and the 
special train of undesirable writings which each inspired. 
The editors of her autobiography have diagnosed her case as 
hysterio-epilepsy, that disease with which the Salpétriére 
School has made us so familiar.’ 

Father Surin has left a detailed account of his mental 
experience during possession. In speaking of when the 
demon passed from the body of the possessed woman to his 
own, he says, ‘‘I am not able to describe to you what takes 
place within me at such a time, and how that spirit unites 
itself with mine, without depriving me of consciousness or of 
the freedom of my soul, yet becoming like another ego of 
myself, and as if I had two souls, of which one is dispossessed 
of its body, and of the use of its organs, and compelled to 
keep aloof, merely looking upon the doings of the other in- 
truding soul. The two spirits wrestle together in the same 
field, which is the body, and the soul is as though it were 
divided. According to the one side of its ego, the soul is the 
subject of the diabolical impressions, and according to the 


1. Parish, Hallucinations and Illusions, p. 37. 
2F. W. H. Myers, Human Personality, etc., I, p. 422. 


IIo DEMONIACAL POSSESSION 


other side it is the subject of the movements proper to it, or 
that God gives to it. When—by the movement of these two 
souls—I wish to make a sign of the cross on somebody’s lips, 
the other soul very quickly deviates my hand and seizes my 
finger to bite it furiously with its teeth. . . . When I wish 
to speak I am stopped short; at table I cannot raise a morsel 
of food to my mouth; at confession I suddenly forget my 
sins; and I feel the demon coming and going within me as 
in his own house.”?! In the Louvier case in 1642, the two 
principal victims found their end in life-long imprisonment 
and at the stake, respectively. 

In 1739, during the revival under Wesley, another epidemic 
of demonism occurred, principally around Bristol. Wesley 
appeared in the rather unenviable réle of exorcist, and cast 
out demons which he himself had been instrumental in 
originating, or at least of encouraging. For some time this 
and similar phenomena accompanied his services. The fol- 
lowing, for instance, is a typical case of demoniacal posses- 
sion, taken from Wesley’s journal. 

“October 25. I was sent for to one in Bristol who was 
taken ill the evening before. She lay on the ground furiously 
gnashing her teeth and after a while roared aloud. It was 
not easy for three or four hours to hold her, especially when 
the name of Jesus was named. We prayed. ‘The violence 
of her symptoms ceased, although without a complete de- 
liverance.”” Wesley was again sent for in the evening. ‘She 
began screaming before I came into the room, then broke 
out into a horrid laughter, mixed with blasphemy, grievous 
to hear. One who from many circumstances apprehended 
a preternatural agent to be concerned in this, asking, ‘How 
didst thou dare to enter into a Christian?’ was answered, 
‘She is not a Christian, she is mine.’ Then another ques- 
tion, ‘Dost thou not tremble at the name of Jesus?’ No 

Th. Ribot, The Diseases of Personality, p. 120 }., note. 


DEMONIACAL POSSESSION III 


words followed, but she shrank back and trembled exceed- 
ingly. ‘Art thou not increasing thine own damnation?’ It 
was faintly answered, ‘Ay! Ay!’ which was followed by fresh 
cursing and blasphemy .. . with spitting, and all the 
expressions of strong aversion.” Again, the second day 
after, Wesley called and prayed with her with the happy 
conclusion that ‘‘all her pangs ceased in a moment, she was 
filled with peace, and knew that the son of wickedness was 
departed from her.”” Bunyan tells us of his obsession by a 
fixed idea, and speaks of it as a demon; * Joseph Smith, Jr., 
successfully exorcised demons from his faithful followers.’ 

The last case of demoniacal possession of note in England 
was that of George Lukins of Yattan, a knavish epileptic, 
out of whom seven clergymen exorcised seven devils, at the 
Temple Church, at Bristol, in 1788. At Morzine, Savoy, a 
demon was exorcised in 1861. At Barcelona, in 1876, a 
priest in the Church of the Holy Spirit cast out demons in 
more than one instance. On one occasion the patient, a 
young woman, lay on the floor before the altar writhing in 
convulsions with distorted features and foaming at the mouth, 
while the priest carried on a dialogue with the demon, whom 
he addressed as Rusbel. The fiend’s answers were, of 
course, spoken by the voice of the unfortunate girl. At last 
a number of demons were supposed to come out of the 
patient’s body. Such scenes were repeated for days in the 
presence of many spectators until a riot arose, and the civil 
authorities intervening put a stop to the whole affair.’ 

In an account of an exorcism in Ceylon during the last half 
of last century, both priest and dancers took part. The 
demoniac, a woman, was brought forward in a kind of trance 


1F. Granger, The Soul of a Christian, p. 116. 

*F. M. Davenport, Primitive Traits in Religious Revivals, p. 240. 

*The Times, Nov., 1876, quoted by Encyclopedia Britannica, Att. 
“Demonology.” 


II2 DEMONIACAL POSSESSION 


with fixed and glassy stare. There was a long ceremony 
consisting of apparent hypnosis, sacrifices, incantations, and 
ridiculous forms lasting hours; after which the woman came 
to herself and appeared all right." The Patagonians exor- 
cise demons by beating, at the head of the bed on which the 
demoniac lies, a drum painted with figures of devils. In 
Australia the nightmare is recognized as a demon. Evi- 
dently this is the original idea, for the word means night- 
spirit, and the experience might well be interpreted as being 
held in the grasp of a spirit so as to be speechless and motion- 
less and yet tortured by the fiend. ‘Travellers tell us that 
demoniacal possessions are common among the aborigines of 
Africa, and the phenomena are not unlike those described 
in the New Testament. Frantic gestures, convulsions, foam- 
ing at the mouth, feats of supernatural strength, furious rav- 
ings, bodily lacerations, gnashing of teeth, and other 
things of a similar character may be witnessed in most 
cases. 

At present, however, China seems to be the field where 
demoniacal possession flourishes best, and some very inter- 
esting cases have been reported.” The great mass of the 
material rests on the evidence of Chinese or Mongolian wit- 
nesses, which is invalidated to some extent for two reasons: 
all the witnesses were fully convinced of the diabolic origin 
of the phenomena, and those who obtained the accounts from 
them and reported them to us take the same view; this in- 
evitably colors the accounts. ‘The second reason is that the 
Chinese are not the most trustworthy witnesses on any sub- 
ject. One case will serve as an example of the Chinese type. 


1C. Corner-Ohlm’s, ‘A Devil-Dance in Ceylon,” Nineteenth Cen- 
tury, XLVI, p. 814. 

2J. L. Nevius, Demon Possession and Allied Themes; also D. K. 
Lambuth, “‘Korean Devils and Christian Missionaries,” Independent, 
1907. 


DEMONIACAL POSSESSION 113 


Kwo, a mountaineer, gives an account of his own experiences. 
He had been making arrangements for the household worship 
of the goddess Wang-Muniang, when one night he dreamed 
that the goddess appeared to him and announced that she 
had taken up her abode in his house. After a few days he 
had a feeling of restlessness coupled with an irrational im- 
pulse to gamble. His mind became confused and his memory 
was impaired. He was then seized by an epileptiform attack, 
followed by mania with homicidal impulses. The demon 
proclaimed its presence and demanded worship. Upon com- 
pliance with its demands it departed. For some months the 
demon reappeared at intervals and promised to heal dis- 
eases. ‘There were many diseases, however, which were not 
under its control, and it seems that it was only able to effect 
a complete cure of such cases as were afflicted with spirit 
possession. ‘This latter fact is quite significant. When the 
demoniac became a Christian the demon disappeared, saying, 
“Jesus Christ is the great Lord over all; and now I am going 
away and you will not see me again.” Kwo was not troubled 
after that.’ 

If we do not accept the literal explanation of demoniacal 
possession, how are we to explain the phenomena? The 
similarity to witchcraft demands a somewhat similar ex- 
planation. The general belief in the possibility of such a 
thing proves to be a powerful suggestion. The nervous in- 
stability and excitement of the victim provide a basis and 
give ample opportunity for the suggestion to take root.” In 
some cases this is sufficient explanation, especially in those 
of an epidemic character. In other cases we have splendid 
examples of so-called “dual” or “multiple personality.” 
This is common either as an artificial or spontaneous phe- 
nomenon. Many of these divisions are purely intellectual, 


1J. L. Nevius, Demon Possession and Allied Themes, pp. 17-27 
*J. B. Pratt, The Psychology of Religious Beliej, p. 63 }. 


114 DEMONIACAL POSSESSION 


but we know that the moral nature—the will and the char- 
acter—may split as easily as the intellect. 

The question has been asked, however, ‘‘Can we suppose 
that the tormentor was a part of the tormented?” Instead 
of this question being an absurd one, the affirmative answer 
is supported by characteristic phenomena both in insanity 
and hysteria. At times the splits in personality seem to be 
of such a character that there is an entire lack of sympathy 
between the two conditions, normal and abnormal. In the 
celebrated case of Léonie, Léontine (Léonie II) was very 
antagonistic to Léonie, and during the whole history of the 
case continued to be so. Dr. Morton Prince’s patient, ‘The 
Misses Beauchamp,” exhibited the same traits. B III never 
lost an opportunity for showing the greatest antagonism to 
B I, the normal personality. In Dr. Ira Barrows’ famous 
case, reported by Professor James, the second personality was 
localized in the right hand and arm, and the most violent 
antagonism is shown toward it, which she never calls by any 
other name than ‘Old Stump.” 

Since the fiendish and hostile action of the Chinese demon 
does not prove its identity, but is rather a proof of its fraud- 
ulent nature, there is only one other claim made which is 
worthy of consideration, and that is the claim of supernormal 
knowledge. Taking these accounts at second-hand we cannot 
well discuss the point; but when we know of the heightened 
memory found in ecstatic and hypnotic cases, we need very 
strong evidence to satisfy us that what is termed ara 
knowledge is not exalted memory. 

I must here insert, by way of pertinent example, an epitome 
of Professor Janet’s case of Achille. Achille was a timid 
and rather morbid young married man. After returning 
from a business journey he became sombre and taciturn, 


1 For a full description of this case see Nevroses et Idees fixes, I, pp. 
377-389. 


DEMONIACAL POSSESSION IIs 


sometimes appearing unable to speak. He remained in his 
bed murmuring incomprehensible words, bade farewell to his 
wife and children, and stretched himself out motionless for a 
couple of days, while his family waited for his last breath. 
Suddenly he sat up in bed with wide-open eyes, and burst 
into a convulsive, exaggerated, Satanic laugh which lasted 
for more than two hours. He leapt from his bed and cried, 
“They are burning me—they are cutting me to pieces!”’ 
After an agitated sleep he awoke with the conviction that he 
was possessed with a devil. His mouth uttered blasphemies, 
his limbs were contorted, and he repeatedly made unsuccess- 
ful attempts at suicide. When taken to Professor Janet he 
kept protesting against the odious outrages on religion, 
which he attributed to a devil inside of him, moving his tongue 
against his will. Attempts to hypnotize him failed, but the 
wily psychologist finally persuaded the demon to show his 
power by putting Achille soundly asleep. No sooner was 
this done than he was delivered from his tormentor—from his 
own tormenting self. In that hypnotic sleep he was gently 
led on to tell all his story; and such stories, when told to a 
skilled and kindly auditor, are apt to come to an end in the 
very act of being told. Achille had been living in a day- 
dream; it had swollen to these nightmare proportions, and 
had, as it were, ousted his rational being; and in the deeper 
self-knowledge which the somnambulistic state brings with it, 
the dream and its interpretation became present to his be- 
wildered mind. The fact was that on that fateful journey 
when Achille’s troubles began he had committed an act of 
unfaithfulness to his wife. ‘A gloomy anxiety to conceal this 
action prompted him to an increasing taciturnity, and morbid 
fancies as to his health grew on him until at last his day- 
dream led him to imagine himself as actually dead. What, 
then, was naturally the next stage of the dream’s develop- 
ment? ‘‘He dreamed that, now that he was dead indeed, 


116 DEMONIACAL POSSESSION 


the devil rose from the abyss and came to take him. The 
poor man, as in his somnambulic state he retraced the series 
of his dreams, remembered the precise instant when this 
lamentable event took place. It was about 11 A.m.: a dog 
barked in the court at the moment, incommoded, no doubt, 
by the smell of brimstone; flames filled the room; numbers 
of little fiends scourged the unhappy man, or drove nails 
into his eyes, and through the wounds in his body Satan 
entered in to take possession of head and heart.” From 
this point the pseudo-possession may be said to have begun. 
The fixed idea developed itself into sensory and motor autom- 
atisms—visions of devils, uncontrollable utterances, auto- 
matic script—ascribed by the automatist to the possessing 
devil within. By Professor Janet’s treatment the incidents 
of the miserable memory were modified, were explained away, 
were slowly dissolved from the brooding brain, and the hal- 
lucinatory image of the offended wife was presented to the 
sufferer at the proper moment with pardon in her eyes. 
Achille was restored to physical and moral health, and after- 
ward led the life of anormal man. This case of demoniacal 
possession was completely cured by mental treatment. It 
shows the character of the phenomenon. 

While demoniacs are found among all classes of people, 
usually those who are very suggestible, feeble-minded, with 
a melancholic temperament and a vicious education, furnish 
the subjects. Female demoniacs are more common than 
male, and the majority have been between forty and fifty 
years of age. There have been very few under the age of 
puberty or among old people.* Chinese demoniacs, accord- 
ing to Nevius, range between fifteen and fifty years of age, 
quite irrespective of sex. Chamberlain says, ‘‘The only 
difference between the cases of possession mentioned in the 
Bible and those observed in Japan is that it is almost exclu- 

1E. Esquirol, Mental Maladies, pp. 235-252. 


DEMONIACAL POSSESSION 117 


sively women that are attacked, mostly women of the lower 
class. Among the predisposing conditions may be men- 
tioned a weak intellect, a superstitious turn of mind, and such 
debilitating diseases as, for instance, typhoid fever. Pos- 
session never occurs except in such subjects as have heard 
of it already and believe in the reality of its existence.”’* 

In conclusion I feel like reiterating the words of one writer 
concerning the oriental cases. He said, “If the case now- 
adays of the demonolators of Southern India differs from 
that of the Hebrews, who in the time of Christ were possessed 
with devils, will anyone point out to me the exact bound and 
limit of the difference?”’? I believe them to be similar, but 
would differ from this writer in one particular. I would 
class them according to the diagnosis of to-day rather than 
that of 1900 years ago. Since we are able both to produce 
and cure demoniacal possession in our laboratories, it hardly 
seems necessary to invoke the aid of demons to furnish an 
explanation, especially when we can give a better one without 
it. The disaggregation of consciousness, or a split in per- 
sonality, with an insistent idea in the secondary conscious- 
ness, is all that science needs to-day to furnish a case of 
demoniacal possession as wild and fiendish as the most 
fastidious could wish. 

It will be readily recognized that a disbelief in demons or 
in demoniacal possession does not interfere with a belief in a 
personal devil if one chooses to entertain the latter, any more 
than a rejection of angelology would prevent the acceptance 
of a belief in God. 


1B. H. Chamberlain, Things Japanese, p. 114. 
2R. C. Cardwell, ““Demonology, Devil Dancing, and Demoniacal 
Possession,” Contemporary Review, 1876, p. 376. 


CHAPTER XI 
MONASTICISM AND ASCETICISM 
“He lives in fame that died in virtue’s cause.’ SHAKESPEARE. 


NEITHER Monasticism nor Asceticism is an unique product 
of Christianity. Both were known before the Christian era, 
and Egypt and India, rather than Palestine or western 
countries, may be looked upon as the homes of these prac- 
tices. A remembrance of the Fakeers of India, the Galli and 
Vestales of Rome, the Pythagoreans of Greece, the Thera- 
peute of Egypt, and the Essenes of Judea will instantly 
reveal the general prevalence of these ideas before the days 
of Christ." The widespread and universal character of these 
practices shows that in some way either the results or proc- 
esses find in many persons a responsive chord, that human 
nature delights in the arduous, or at least in the unusual. 
While it was usually considered that self-denial was an in- 
evitable part of the life of the monk or of the hermit, there 
were certain compensations which to some persons more than 
repaid any sacrifice. 

In the fourth century and later there was a stampede from 
the church, as though it were ruled by the devil as much as 
the world from which men were bound to make their escape. 
Both were left behind. Why was this? It was for the pur- 
pose of individual freedom. True, the monk took a vow, 
but this was to a monastery or abbot, which one could choose, 


1T. G. Crippen, History of Christian Doctrine, p. 156. 
118 


MONASTICISM AND ASCETICISM IIg 


and it meant entire freedom from the bondage of the church 
into which one was born without his consent.' 

We see in the churchman and the monk a psychological 
distinction which is as old as man. The church upheld 
authority and union, while monasticism stood for individual- 
ism. Individualism is the highest product of human de- 
velopment. It is not first chronologically, but gradually the 
individual is differentiated from the mass which tries to sub- 
jugate him. Mr. Spencer’s definition of evolution would 
lead us to think that the production of individualism was the 
business of the world. Notwithstanding the value of the 
monastery in developing individualism, it was a failure in the 
full development, for only by the free competition with un- 
trammelled men, and through the family and the state—the 
two institutions which monasticism rejected—could the pin- 
nacle of individualism be reached. 

There were three stages of development: 1. the anchorite; 
2. the community, independent of other communities; and 
3. the organization of communities, although the later stages 
never did away entirely with the former. It is also noticeable 
that the three vows of the monk found emphasis and expres- 
sion in three different orders: Clugny forced celibacy on the 
clergy, the Mendicant orders typified poverty, while the 
Jesuits were the soul of obedience. Although the monks and 
anchorites fled from the church, the church never allowed 
them to escape, and they brought new blood into it and in- 
fused it with fresh enthusiasm and loyalty. Among all the 
extravagances this was not the only good trait. They exer- 
cised hospitality, they were kind to the poor, and befriended 
those who were in distress. They boldly rebuked the sins 
of the powerful, which they were able to do on account of the 
respect entertained for their sanctity, although such rebukes 
would have cost others their lives. They led in intellectual 


1A. V.G. Allen, Christian Institutions, pp. 139 and 175. 


120 MONASTICISM AND ASCETICISM 


development, produced many great church teachers, and 
established schools. They developed the arts, and saved 
agriculture in days when both were neglected by others, and 
led also in piety and religious growth. ‘Truly it may be said 
that “‘ Western civilization was cradled in the monastery.” 
In the fourteenth century times changed so that individual 
opportunities became greater, and men could develop far 
better outside the monasteries than within their walls. So 
well have the results of Monasticism been summed up by 
another that I venture to give a most excellent, if rather 
long, quotation: 

‘“‘Every direct specific purpose of the monk seemed in the 
long run to have been reversed, or to have proved a failure. 
He began with indifference to the extension of the visible 
church and ended with reviving the primitive order of the 
Apostolate for the conversion of Western Europe. His fore- 
most aim was the salvation of his own soul, and he became 
the most successful of missionaries for accomplishing the 
salvation of others. He left the world of towns and cities 
behind him, but where he went the world followed him and 
towns and cities sprang up around him. He started, as did 
the Montanists, his predecessors, with an inward revolt 
against the laws of outward nature, or the ties which bind 
the body and soul together; he lived in deserts and in dens 
and in caves of the earth, he fought the constitution of his 
being with rigid and prolonged physical discipline. And yet 
it was the monk who was the first in the modern world, as in 
the case of St. Bernard or St. Francis, to acquire the love of 
nature. In the contact with nature, which was forced upon 
him by his desire to be in solitude and alone with God, there 
entered into his soul the healing power of nature through 
communion with his spirit. Through this communion with 
nature, which begot the love of nature, came the preparation 
for modern art. From holding the human body as an evil 


MONASTICISM AND ASCETICISM 121 


thing at war with the soul, he came to recognize the divineness 
of the human form as the expression of the inward spirit. He 
lived in the atmosphere of the miracle, a world of his own 
creation where all laws might be suspended at the bidding of 
faith, where the power of the holy man was revealed as 
stronger than the forces of life or death, and thus, as with 
Albert the Great or Roger Bacon, prepared the way for mod- 
ern science which reveals nature as at the service of man. 
Monasticism started with a contempt for the human reason, 
as if intellect were necessarily at war with piety, and, like the 
Montanist, despised philosophy, as incompatible with true 
religion. But the monasteries, when they reached the height 
of their development, produced the scholars, the thinkers, the 
philosophers of the age. The one supreme object of scholas- 
ticism was to defend the doctrines of the church, but in 
order to this end it was necessary to cultivate the reason. 
When the process of scholasticism was complete, it ended in 
what is known as nominalism, which asserts the importance 
of the thinking mind as that which gives reality to human 
thought. In its origin, monasticism, like Montanism, was 
indifferent to the welfare of the state, fleeing to the desert to 
escape its control. Its indifference to the political order, the 
absence of loyalty to one’s country, or the sense of patriotism, 
had hastened the downfall of the Roman Empire. The 
monks contributed nothing to the cause of nationality; they 
were cosmopolitan, equally at home in every country. And 
yet it was the monks who were called to rule the world which 
they despised. It was a dream of ancient times that it would 
be desirable if a philosopher, who lightly regarded the world, 
could be brought to govern the world, sitting on the throne of 
the Roman Empire; and it happened once in the case of 
Marcus Aurelius. So in the case of Hildebrand and of 
others who succeeded him, monks ruled over the states of 
Europe and subjected princes, kings, and emperors to their 


1a? MONASTICISM AND ASCETICISM 


sway. ‘They abandoned property and took the vow of poverty 
but they could not escape from wealth. Each successive 
attempt to make the monasteries poor ended in their being 
richer than before. They cultivated obedience as an art, 
taking a special vow to obey, and the end of the process was 
individual freedom. . . . They took the vow of celibacy 
and called it chastity, and the result, it is needless to say, was 
such disastrous moral failure and collapse as to cast a dis- 
credit upon the system of the monastery from which it has 
not yet recovered.” * 

We will now take up some of the different factors of 
Monasticism and Asceticism and endeavor to gauge their 
psychological significance. 


SELF-DENIAL 


“Keep the faculty of effort alive in you by a little gratuitous 
exercise every day. That is, be systematically ascetic or 
heroic in little unnecessary points, do every day or two some- 
thing for no other reason than that you would rather not do 
it, so that when the hour of dire need draws nigh, it may find 
you not unnerved and untrained to stand the test. Asceti- 
cism of this sort is like the insurance which a man pays on 
his house and goods. ‘The tax does him no good at the time, 
and possibly may never bring him a return. But if the fire 
does come, his having paid it will be his salvation from 
ruin.” * ‘This is not third century but twentieth century ad- 
vice. It is not particularly religious, but it makes for char- 
acter. There is needed the asceticism of art, of business, 
and of sport as well as of religion, for unless a man is willing 
to deny himself he cannot see the Kingdom of God in religion, 
nor his ideal in any branch of life. 


1A. V. G. Allen, Christian Institutions, pp. 173 ff.; see also A. W. 
Wishart, Monks and Monasteries, pp. 386-393, for a valuation of Monas- 
ticism. ?,W. James, Psychology, I, p. 126. - 


MONASTICISM AND ASCETICISM 123 


The attitude of the ascetic toward the self was both nega- 
tive and positive; the former was exhibited by self-denial, 
and the latter by torture. Of course the negative side has a 
positive aim, and in its legitimate culmination is self-realiza- 
tion rather than self-suppression. We are all now familiar 
with the effect of the body upon the mind and therefore upon 
the religious life, and not the mutilated, but the sound, 
healthy body is of the most value in religion. We are trying 
now to reinstate the body in its original place of honor. If 
Jesus advocated any asceticism it amounted, as Harnack has 
said,’ to His putting us on our guard against the three ene- 
mies—Mammon, care, and selfishness; and to His exacting 
of every man, who should find the way of salvation through 
Him, a certain unlimited devotion of purpose and life to the 
imperative interests of an ethical and religious ideal. This 
excludes the positive attitude of the ascetic toward the body 
—it leaves no room for the torture of the self. 

In the early centuries there were some Christians who 
practised the negative side of self-denial only. They did not 
withdraw from society, but they thought that they were pro- 
hibited from enjoying many things which were lawful for 
those less pious. With this belief they did not drink wine, 
eat flesh, nor engage in any commerce. Neither would they 
marry, for they looked for happiness in solitude rather than 
in the peace of domestic life. Since that time we have found 
many like-minded, who espouse the negative aspect only, 
and others also who incorporate both the negative and the 
positive into their ideals. 

Of course the root-idea of all self-suppression was that the 
world was evil and the body was a servant of the devil. ‘Our 
wretched and weak human flesh,”’ wrote Brother Giles, ‘‘is 
like the pig, that ever delighteth to wallow and befoul itself 
in the mud, deeming the mud its greatest delight. Our flesh 


1A. Harnack, What is Christiamtty? p. gt f. 


124 MONASTICISM AND ASCETICISM 


is the devil’s knight; for it resists and fights against all those 
things that are of God for our salvation.”’* If sin proceeded 
from the body and the ideal of perfection was the negative 
principle of avoidance of sin, then the theory of self-suppres- 
sion was a legitimate one; and there are not wanting those 
_ In any age who court the unpleasant and difficult, and rejoice 
in hardship and danger—‘‘their souls growing in happiness 
just in proportion as their outward state grew more intoler- 
able. No other emotion than religious emotion can bring a 
man to this peculiar pass.” ” 

The negative principle of self-denial is most frequently and 
thoroughly expressed in Solitude, Humility, Obedience, 
Poverty, Fasting, and Sexual Continence. Solitude and 
Fasting will be treated under separate rubrics in this chapter, 
while the discussion of Sexual Continence will be reserved 
until we take up the whole subject of sexuality. Let us then 
take up briefly the three other subjects—humility, obedience, 
and poverty. Of course every ascetic, per se, was supposed 
to be humble. His sins, his weakness, his failures, his priva- 
tion, all made him humble, and not infrequently, so much 
was the humility of this or that particular saint extolled that 
I fear he came to be in the paradoxical state where he was 
proud of his humility, and the effort defeated itself. With St. 
Louis, for example, humility became a fine art; his eyes were 
hardly ever raised, and he excelled in rudeness and incivility.” 
Mr. Dickens has created a very humble man in Uriah Heep, 
and Uriah, like many of the saints, was humble for a purpose. 

One further way in which humility became paradoxical 
was in the Christian practice of Confession.* As practised 


* Quoted by J. Moses, Pathological Aspects of Religion, p. 239. 

7W. James, The Varieties of Religious Experience, p. 50. 

$W. James, The Varieties of Religious Experience, p. 352. 

*F. Granger, The Soul of a Christian, pp. 272 ff.; W. James, 1bid., 
p. 462 f. 


MONASTICISM AND ASCETICISM 125 


to-day it is of two kinds, public in some Protestant churches, 
and private in the Roman Catholic Church. The value of 
confession seems to be in getting ourselves fairly and squarely 
before ourselves, rather than in the influence on or of others.’ 
The private recital of all or the worst of one’s sins is very 
liable to react in an injurious manner by way of suggestion 
on the penitent, or on the confessor, or on both; and the public 
recital of a part, and that the least evil part, of one’s sins in- 
evitably leads to hypocrisy. Granger says, ‘‘On the whole 
it would appear that the tendency of the confessional is to an 
indulgent view of sin, and the penitent is let off more easily 
by another than by his own conscience.’”’ The Society of 
Friends eschews confession in any form, and this, except as 
particular friends may be able to help, seems the wisest, 
although James evidently thinks that we do without the con- 
fessional for other causes, for he says, ‘‘ We English-speaking 
Protestants, in the general self-reliance and unsociability of 
our nature, seem to find it enough if we take God alone into 
our confidence.” 

Whatever examples of counterfeit humility we may be able 
to point out, there were, at least, many attempts to cultivate 
the genuine grace. St. Francis of Assisi embraced the lepers 
and kissed them; Margaret Mary Alacoque, St. Catherine, 
Charlotte Laporte (known as “‘the sucker”), Francis Xavier, 
St. John of God, and others “‘are said to have cleansed the 
sores and ulcers of their patients with their respective tongues; 
and the lives of such saints as Elizabeth of Hungary and 
Madame de Chantal are full of a sort of revelling in hospital 
purulence, disagreeable to read of, and which makes us ad- 
mire and shudder at the same time.’ Nothing could be 
more humiliating than incidents of this kind. 

As already intimated, the monk’s vow of obedience was 
really the method of achieving a larger liberty. Neverthe- 

1 Compare G. S. Hall, Adolescence, II, p. 308. 


126 MONASTICISM AND ASCETICISM 


less, it is a kind of self-surrender to those to whom the vow is 
made, be it God, the abbot, or the church. All thought and 
will are thereby denied the monk, which consequently relieves 
him of all responsibility. The monk who obeys virtually 
becomes incapable of any wrong-doing, and all his sins must 
be charged to his superior. Some quite remarkable cases of 
obedience might be cited to show how really passive a person 
may become. 

Although the mstinct for possession is one of the most 
fundamental, religious enthusiasm can easily keep it in check. 
In some religious orders, e. g., the Benedictine, the vow of 
poverty only pertained to the individual monk and not to the 
corporate body. St. Francis endeavored to make it general, 
but failed. His wisdom was exemplified by subsequent events, 
for it was in eschewing poverty in 1321 that both monasticism 
and the papacy began to decline. It is a necessary part of 
self-surrender, and typifies a trust in God without reserve. 
It lays emphasis on doing and being rather than on having, 
and thereby has a distinctly religious value. Professor 
James speaks of the fear of poverty as our worst moral dis- 
ease at the present time. 

One of the most important reasons advanced for self-denial — 
is that of strengthening the will power by this voluntary and - 
unnecessary sacrifice. The power of self-control and repres- 
sion is really a most important element in the development 
of character, and it may be especially necessary to cultivate 
it in these easy and self-indulgent days. The question might 
well arise whether the ordinary circumstances of life do not 
afford ample opportunity for the cultivation of this virtue, 
and whether more intrinsically useful forms of self-denial 
might not be tried than those usually employed by the 
church. We might further ask how far a person would be 
justified in his self-denial when this brought involuntary 
suffering on others, as when the early and medieval saints 


MONASTICISM AND ASCETICISM 127 


left parents or family, and refused to see or talk to a heart- 
broken mother, who had suffered untold hardships in search- 
ing for the heartless anchorite. Instead of developing the 
divine spark in man, the ideal life among these ascetics seems 
to have been to dehumanize themselves and become some- 
thing other than man. In this some of them succeeded, and 
they did not become angels either. 


FASTING 


Modern Protestantism is the only form of religion that has 
eschewed fasting as a religious exercise, and it has done this 
notwithstanding the authority of Paul and of Jesus who 
correlated it with prayer as a means of grace. The aborigines 
of America, and other less civilized races and tribes,’ as 
well as Eastern peoples, incorporated fasting into their relig- 
ions, and it was especially prescribed for special occasions 
and people—the seers and prophets using it. In America we 
have jealously remembered the Puritan feasts, e. g., Thanks- 
giving, and as carefully forgotten their fasts, e. g., Good 
Friday, perhaps to our disadvantage. In the early church, the 
custom was established of observing Wednesday and Friday 
until three o’clock in the afternoon as fast days. These days 
were designated dies stationum, or sentry days, when the 
soldier of Christ stood on guard. At this time, fasting was 
also practised by the penitent when under church discipline.’ 

Saints and monks have used fasting as a favorite form of 
self-denial, and one which repaid them in producing much- 
sought-after religious experiences. ‘The traditional fasting of 
the Roman Catholic Church has, by the rigidity of the rule 
and the changes wrought by time, been turned into luxury. 
To-day, in most parts of this country at least, fish is more 


1J. B. Pratt, Psychology of Religious Belief, pp. 60, 64/7., 97}.5 
F. M. Davenport, Primitive Traits in Religious Revivals, p. 56 }. 
2G. P. Fisher, History of the Christian Church, p. 62. 


128 MONASTICISM AND ASCETICISM 


rare than flesh. Who would not exchange fried tripe for 
boiled salmon, and willingly suffer all the sacrifice which it 
entailed? The sting of the deprivation or the value of the 
sacrifice has been lost in the shuffle. There has lately been 
a movement in Dublin to request the Pope to change the 
rule so that it shall be abstinence from alcoholic liquors that 
is required, instead. of abstinence from meat. While this 
would rob the total abstainer of any sacrifice, it would con- 
fer both a physical and spiritual benefit on the others. 
The rule for fasting in the Roman Catholic Church, how- 
ever, is not the same for all countries; in Spain, and its 
colonies, for instance, no Friday abstinence is required. 
Hygienic rather than ascetic fasting is the fad, or perhaps 
the valuable agitation, of the times, and more men are ab- 
staining from eating for their stomach’s sake than for the 
good of their souls. 

Marvellous tales have been related concerning the ability 
of certain persons, mostly saints, to fast. A wonderful differ- 
ence is to be noticed, either in the fasting powers of different 
individuals or in the credulity of their admirers and friends. 
St. Catherine fasted for several years, so it is said, while St. 
Simeon Stylites, no less a saint, nearly lost his life by trying 
to fast for forty days. A number of cases of famous fasting 
girls have been collated. Margaret Weiss, ten years old, 
who lived near Spires, went without food and drink for three 
years, during which time there were no excretions. In the 
meantime she grew and acted like other children. Paulus 
Lentulus, a virgin of Berne, went without food for over two 
years. She was watched by a magistrate without detection 
of fraud. Katherine Binder, of the Palatinate, was closely 
watched by a clergyman, a statesman, and two doctors of 
medicine, but no fraud was detected. She had nothing but 


1'W. A. Hammond, Spiritism and Nervous Derangement, pp. 263-268, 
from which the following cases have been taken. 


MONASTICISM AND ASCETICISM 129 


air for nine years. Eve Fliegen, of Meurs, took no food for 
fourteen years, from her twenty-second to her thirty-sixth 
year. This was from 1597 to 1611. Joan Balaam, of Con- 
stance, went three years without eating, and exercised ac- 
tively all the time. She gradually learned to eat and drink 
again. Near Cologne, another girl of thirteen did not eat 
for three years. A little sugar put into her mouth caused her 
to swoon. She acted like other children and was fleshy 
enough, except “only that her belly was compressed so that it 
seemed to cleave to her backbone.” : 

About 1811, Ann Moore, of Sudbury, Staffordshire, Eng- 
land, claimed to live without eating. After being watched 
for three weeks the case was reported genuine and she became 
famous. She was again watched for nine days very care- 
fully, at the end of which time she had to confess that she 
was an impostor. During the first watch, her daughter, 
while washing her, fed her by using towels soaked in gravy, 
milk, and arrowroot gruel, and conveyed food from mouth to 
mouth by kissing. After this another case attracted atten- 
tion, but it was found that a hysterical girl in a London 
hospital obtained food from the other patients. The most 
famous case of recent years was that of Sarah Jacob, known 
as “the Welsh Fasting Girl.” In 1867, when ten years old, 
she had an illness and suffered from hysteria. It was claimed 
that for two years and two months she lived without eating. 
A loose watch of three weeks was maintained, after which 
the case was reported genuine. Later, some hospital nurses 
were sent to watch, and the parents and friends were kept 
from the bed. The girl lived for only a few days after this, 
and the jury brought in a verdict of “Starved to Death.” 
The father was sentenced to twelve months’ and the mother 
to six months’ imprisonment.’ 

I have quoted an epitome of these cases in order that we 


1See also F. Galton, Inquiries into the Human Faculty, p. 207. 


130 MONASTICISM AND ASCETICISM 


might have some standard by which to judge the reputed 
fasting of the ascetic saints. Where fraud is carefully ex- 
cluded the tests do not last long, and although there are 
probably great differences in the ability of people to fast, it 
seems hardly possible that the body can subsist long without 
food. We must consider all cases where years are spoken 
of as fraud, or the exaggeration of prejudiced friends. There 
is no doubt that some saints did practise fasting, and for a 
purpose which seemed legitimate to them. Undoubtedly the 
discovery of the religious value of fasting was accidental. In 
primitive times when the race was stricken by famine, or the 
individual suffered from hunger, and vitality was lowered 
even to include trance conditions, then visions were seen and 
dreams were experienced which could be artificially produced 
by the same means. Not only the individual religious long- 
ings were thus satisfied, but the tribe thereby obtained the 
services of a seer.’ 

The help to seeing visions and having dreams is the chief 
reason for fasting among all religionists. ‘The opening of 
the refectory door must many a time have closed the gate of 
heaven to the ascetic’s gaze.” ? It seems hardly possible 
that heaven is lying around us, and fasting will put us into 
the condition for recognizing it, as some of the saints and 
early mystics maintained.* We know from experience, out- 
side the realm of religious experiment, that lowered vitality 
produces illusions, hallucinations, and delirium, as well as 
we know that moderate fasting may be beneficial to the 
activity of both body and mind. On the latter point we have 
the testimony of one observer regarding the inmates of the 
monastery of Our Lady of the Snows. 


1C. C. Everett, The Psychological Elements of Religious Faith, p. 
46 }.; J. Moses, Pathological Aspects of Religions, p. 238. 

7 E. B. Tylor, Primitive Culture, II, p. 415. 

*F. Granger, The Soul of a Christian, p. 12. 


MONASTICISM AND ASCETICISM 131 


“Without doubt the most of mankind grossly overeat 
themselves; our meals serve not only for support, but as a 
hearty and natural diversion from the labor of life. Yet, 
though excess may be hurtful, I should have thought this 
Trappist regimen defective. And I am astonished, as I look 
back, at the freshness of face and cheerfulness of manner of 
all whom I beheld. A happier nor a healthier company I 
should scarce suppose that I have everseen. . . . They 
seemed all firm of flesh and high in colour; and the only 
morbid sign that I could observe, an unusual brilliancy of 
the eye, was one that served rather to increase the general 
impression of vivacity and strength.” * 

Undoubtedly there are some virtues, as there are some 
vices, which are peculiar to and more easily cultivated by a 
fasting saint. In fact, we see these in equal proportion in 
the saints who suffered from malnutrition; and in these prac- 
tical, active, and positive days it is hardly possible that we 
would voluntarily choose these anemic virtues if we had to 
take the anemic vices with them. A part of the argument has 
been put in this form: ‘It is questionable whether the visions 
induced by an empty stomach are of any greater benefit to 
humanity than the nightmare generated by an overfilled one. 
A deficiency of red corpuscles undoubtedly makes certain 
temptations less alluring, but there are some moral diseases 
which, like physical contagion, more readily attack a weak- 
ened system. After forty days of fasting even Christ was 
approachable by the devil. A fasting person may be more 
aspiring, but he is less benevolent. Abundant domestic ex- 
perience shows that before dinner a man’s temper is not 
especially angelic, but after dinner he feels more kindly 
toward his fellow-men. When his hunger is allayed his 
selfishness is quelled. It is the hour which is taken advan- 
tage of by minstrels to approach the table to beg, and by our 

1R. L. Stevenson, Journey through the Cevennes, p. 97. 


132 MONASTICISM AND ASCETICISM 


friends, whose most atrocious jests are received by indulgence 
and even applause.” * 

There were some rebellions among the monks against fast- 
ing. An amusing story of vigorous protest against the rule of 
St. Martin of Tours comes down tous. The Egyptian monks 
could live on a few figs a day, but the rude Gauls who followed 
Martin were just emerging out of barbarism and were accus- 
tomed to devour great slices of roasted meat and to drink 
deep draughts of ale. Such sturdy children of the northern 
forests did not take kindly to dainty morsels of barley bread 
and small potations of wine. Athanasius had said, “‘ Fasting 
is the food of angels,” but the reply of Martin’s novices was, 
“We are accused of gluttony, but we are Gauls; it is ridiculous 
and cruel to make us live like angels; we are not angels; once 
more, we are only Gauls.” ‘This was the protest of common 
sense against ascetic fanaticism. St. Bonaventura has re- 
lated a touching story of St. Francis of Assisi. As the dying 
victim of asceticism sank back exhausted with spitting blood, 
he avowed while viewing his emaciated body that “he had 
sinned against his brother, the ass.” (This was Francis’s 
name for his body.) Then, his mental activity taking, as 
was usual with him, the form of an hallucination, he imagined 
that, when at prayer during the night, he heard a voice say- 
ing, ‘‘ Francis, there is no sinner in the world whom, if he be 
converted, God will not pardon; but he who kills himself by 
hard penances will find no mercy in eternity.” He attributed 
the voice to the devil. 

Some investigations concerning the disturbances of the 
mind caused by the deprivatior of food were recently made 
by Dr. Lassiguardie, a French physiologist. The Journal 
of the American Medical Association sums up the results as 
follows: ‘His conclusions were to the effect that fasting 
promoted the development of the intellectual faculties, es- 

* Independent, LX, pp. 981 ff. 


MONASTICISM AND ASCETICISM 1333 


pecially the imagination. In actual starvation the character 
changed and became irritable and cruel, with loss of memory 
and will power, and development of hallucinations, agreeable 
or distressing. He has recently been studying the miners 
who were buried for so many days in the mine at Cour- 
riéres. One miner was not released until after an interval of 
twenty-five days. He frequently imagined himself at home 
and talked with his wife, and imagined that he found scraps 
of bread, which he ate with relish. Like most of the others, 
he frequently imagined he saw bright lights before him. All 
the miners said that they became very irritable and frequently 
quarrelled. They all had hallucinations, generally agreeable, 
but nearly all retained their reason, only a few being actual 
dupes of their imagination.” 


SOLITUDE 


Solitude has been considered an important part of ascetic 
life, and the greater religious founders and leaders craved and 
insisted on seclusion. Jesus and Paul, no less than Mo- 
hammed and Buddha, fled to the desert or retired from the 
crowd. Saints, in imitation of these or for other reasons, 
have chosen a life of solitude. Some persons are tempera- 
mentally constituted so that they find this life an attractive 
one. They are unable to adapt themselves to social duties 
and requirements, in fact they seem to be deficient in social 
instincts, and an opportunity for silence and contemplation 
is sought. The East rather than the West supplies this type, 
and conditions of climate have not a little influence.* With 
others the seclusion was not voluntary. About the middle of 
the third century persecution drove many to the desert, where 
they lived as anchorites. The unpleasant conditions where 
anarchy and terror reigned for the next thirty years aug- 
mented the numbers, and at the beginning of the fourth cen- 


1J. Moses, Pathological Aspects of Religions, p. 254. 


134 MONASTICISM AND ASCETICISM 


tury, the ten years’ persecution of Diocletian again forced 
many into involuntary seclusion.’ Probably many, like Paul 
of Thebes, the first Christian hermit, became so accustomed 
to solitude that they preferred it to society. 

Some were stimulated to ascetic retirement by the state of 
the times in which they lived. The world was morally cor- 
rupt and the purity of the church was imperilled. Alarmed 
at this condition, not a few who lacked the courage to combat 
the growing depravity sought a secure retreat where they 
could develop religiously outside the influence of evil. Per- 
haps some also thought that evil could only be conquered by 
withdrawing from it.?, Some who condemned the life of the 
anchorite still favored the calling of the monk. Among these 
were Basil and Jerome. The silence and gloom of the solitary 
life, together with the heat of the tropical sun, drove many 
into insanity, and the dangers and excesses, the evils and 
temptations of the anchorite, were against the lonely life. 
The monk suffered from these things also, but to a less ex- 
tent. But in both cases it was a withdrawal from the world 
for individual piety. 

It was not by common consent that the solitary life was 
exalted, for some objected to both the cell and the monastery. 
They claimed that Christians who fled to the desert or to the 
cloister were lost to the world, but the ascetic answered that 
the prayers of the godly were useful. At first their lives did 
present a sharp contrast to the prevailing corruption of 
society, but unfortunately this condition did not last. Un- 
doubtedly the chief reason for the solitary life was the oppor- 
tunity it gave for personal religious development, for it was 
considered perfectly legitimate to leave the world to the devil 
while trying to save one’s own soul. ‘To break by his in- 
gratitude the heart of the mother who had borne him, to 


'T. G. Crippen, History of Christian Doctrine, p. 156. 
*G. P. Fisher, History of the Christian Church, p. 111. 


MONASTICISM AND ASCETICISM 135 


persuade the wife who adored him that it was her duty to 
separate from him forever, to abandon his children, uncared 
for and beggars, to the mercy of the world, was regarded by 
the true hermit as the most acceptable offering he could make 
to his God. His business was to save his own soul. The 
serenity of his devotion would be impaired by the discharge 
of the simplest duties to his family.”* So we find that 
parents’ hearts were broken, mothers were spurned, and so 
great was the demand for undisturbed worship that it is said 
a saint called Boniface struck dead a man who unintentionally 
disturbed him at his prayers. 

We have the record of many cases of retirement by saints 
who had become so famous for their sanctity that they had to 
retreat further and further from the domain of man, some- 
times without avail. St. Simeon Stylites conceived the unique 
scheme of ascending a pillar sixty feet high to attain the 
solitude of which his fame threatened to rob him. Anthony 
of Thebes, the patron saint of ascetics, spent his life, from 
his youth, in the desert. The first few years he used wrestling 
with evil spirits, but he abandoned that for the positive life 
of contemplation and good works. Tradition has embellished 
him with much sanctity, and his life has.stood as the pattern 
for anchorites, who, following him, rapidly increased in num- 
bers, spreading their cells over the desolate and secluded 
regions of Egypt, Syria, and Palestine. 

Psychologically the saint found seclusion of great religious 
value. In solitude it is natural to experience a great range 
of feelings, and usually extremes of feeling.” The saint was 
either in the depths of depression or on the heights of exalta- 

‘W. E. H. Lecky, History of European Morals, II, p. 125; see 
further, pp. 127-131, for the monk’s insane determination to be separated 
from women, even refusing to look upon or receive a visit from aged 
and pleading mothers and sisters. Simeon Stylites killed his mother in 


this way. 
?F. Granger, The Soul of a Christian, p. rot. 


136 MONASTICISM AND ASCETICISM 


tion, either fighting with the devil or in intimate and friendly 
conversation with the Lord. In ecstasy, either demons or 
angels were his companions, but seldom or never did common 
men and women enter his field of vision at such times. These 
extremes of feeling satisfied the cravings of the anchorites. 
The solitary state was also conducive to the production of 
visions and dreams, ecstasy and possession, especially as it 
was almost unavoidably associated with some degree of fast- 
ing. It was usually in solitude that the saint received mes- 
sages and other forms of revelation, which he afterward 
divulged to his less fortunate fellow-men; and it was here 
also that he overcame the fierce temptations which vied in 
intensity with more carnal victories. ‘The inevitable fixation 
of thought tended to assist these hallucinatory experiences, 
especially when combined with the lack of ordinary stimuli.’ 
Rather more prosaic, but a not less valuable function of 
solitude, was the stimulus which it gave and the opportunity 
which it allowed for study and contemplation. The monk or 
anchorite, being freed from the distractions of the common 
duties of life, with few personal needs and no social demands, 
could devote himself to uninterrupted intellectual work. 
And well it was for civilization that the monk did thus em- 
ploy his time, for we owe it to him that much of the ancient 
treasure has been preserved, as well as that many new and 
valuable additions have been made to the life of the Middle 
Ages. 

Paradoxical as it may seem, the world which the anchorite 
pretended to eschew was absolutely indispensable to him. 
Only let some breathless messenger reach the cavern of the 
hermit and announce to him that his love of solitude was at 
length effectively and forever gratified by the utter extinction 
of the human race, and solitude, from that instant, would not 


1H. R. Marshall, “The Function of Religious Expression,” Mind, 
N.S., VI, pp. 182 7. 


MONASTICISM AND ASCETICISM . 137 


merely lose all its fancied charms, but would become terrible 
and insufferable; and this man of seclusion, starting like a 
maniac from his wilderness, would run round the world in 
search of some possible straggling survivors. 

It seems hardly necessary to note the injurious aspects of 
asceticism, so obvious to all. The tendency to inordinate 
selfishness, the withdrawal of so many persons from the 
active affairs of life, the atrophy of altruistic virtues, and the 
opportunity for immorality under the guise of the isolated 
life, cannot be disregarded in a study of the effects of seclusion. 
Spiritual pride was also fostered in the solitary life. It is 
well to notice that a man may be as truly selfish about the 
next world as about this. 


TORTURE 


The positive side of the ascetic’s attitude toward the body 
was that of torture. The most energetic frequently sub- 
jected themselves to every form of physical suffering, often 
devising curious and extravagant modes of self-torture. By 
crucifying the body mystical communion with God was sup- 
posed to be realized, and thereby the joys of heaven were 
experienced. But this torture is seldom or never really self- 
ish. It is the blind way which men have of trying to obtain 
satisfaction for the religious impulse of self-surrender.* This 
is founded on a wrong conception of God. To this class of 
ascetics, God is not a kind and loving Father, but an angry 
and revengeful Master. He is, therefore, much pleased by 
painful sufferings and cruel martyrdoms.’ All torture then 
becomes propitiation to this kind of Deity, and merit was 
thus acquired by the maltreatment of the body. 

There were many other causes of torture. It was nurtured 
by the instinctive recoil against the poison of sensuality, 


1G. T. Ladd, The Philosophy of Religion, I, p. 297. 
2J. Moses, Pathological Aspects of Religions, p. 244. 


138 MONASTICISM AND ASCETICISM 


which had helped to destroy the old civilization.’ This 
recoil was shown by all degrees of austerities. The rules of 
the monks were severe, but the monks vied with each other 
in adding voluntary hardships and torture, and the ancho- 
rites tried to surpass the experiences of former days, both 
their own and others. Some found a sort of morbid pleas- 
ure in the most excruciating pain by some strange inver- 
sion of feeling, but with others it was always objectionable 
and they had to drive themselves to it. Taulér did not value 
torture per se, and said, ‘we are to kill our passions, not our 
flesh and blood,” but many others thought the two synony- 
mous, and to them there was no such thing as killing passions 
without destroying the body. Jovinian (406), although him- 
self a celibate and an ascetic, went so far as to hold that all 
these austerities were purely voluntary, and involved no 
peculiar merit. He maintained that the ordinary Christian 
life was holy. The Roman Catholic Church decrees that 
health must not be sacrificed to mortification, for the latter is 
not an end in itself, and because both may be means to a 
higher attainment neither should be advanced at the expense 
of the other. St. John of the Cross presented the life of 
holiness in a very repellent aspect and welcomed every kind 
of suffering, choosing the most painful because it was such. 
Henry Suso succeeded in taming his body after sixteen years 
of cruel austerities, but many others found that their efforts 
were never successful, and that the older they grew the more 
severe the tortures necessary. The widely varying effects of 
torture on different people, and the different ideas concerning 
its value and use, only go to show, what we meet with at every 
turn, that the same stimuli cause vastly different reactions 
when they meet with different temperaments. 

Torture of a more refined character than bodily mutila- 
tion was sometimes practised. Sometimes men on entering 


‘W. R. Inge, Christian Mysticism, p. 244. 


MONASTICISM AND ASCETICISM —— 139 


a monastery were commanded by the abbot to throw their 
sons into a river or into a fire, or to watch all kinds of pun- 
ishment and torture inflicted upon the innocent little ones. 
They usually obeyed these inhuman commands, and thereby 
showed their separation from the world and their love to 
Christ. To outrage the affections of the nearest and dearest 
relations was not only regarded as innocent, but proposed as 
the highest virtue. 

These ascetic practices did enable the spiritually ambitious 
to rise above their surroundings, and the delirium and visions 
of the sick and weakened were vouchsafed to the tortured. 
Suso was favored by many visions, the most valuable of 
which was the one by which he was informed that he was 
relieved of the obligation of further torture. Even those who 
have not felt the necessity of torturing themselves have ad- 
mired the ascetics and monks who have had such supreme 
contempt for the physical man that they would undergo so 
much mutilation of the body to make the soul more perfect. 
Many, who have eschewed the monastery and the cell of the 
anchorite have, in their despair of attaining self-mastery, 
cven amid the usual surroundings of life, fled to special means 
of self-torture that they might win the indispensable victory. 
The great trouble has been that torture not infrequently de- 
feated the end in view by emphasizing and keeping in prom- 
inence the very body and passions which it tried to destroy. 
Indifference, rather than torture, would have accomplished 
the object far better, and to have dwelt upon the spiritual 
edification rather than the physical destruction would have 
given success to many who knew only failure. Torture 
may have been valuable in some cases, but it is only an- 
other example of the fact that “the fruits of religion .. . 
are, like all human products, liable to corruption by ex- 
cess.” * 


1W. James, The Varieties of Religious Experience, p. 339. 


140 MONASTICISM AND ASCETICISM 


As an example of the extent to which torture was carried, 
let us take the case of Henry Suso, rather than recite the 
various forms resorted to by many ascetics who might be 
portrayed. 

‘‘He sought by many devices how he might bring his body 
into subjection. He wore for a long time a hair shirt and 
an iron chain, until the blood ran from him, so that he was 
obliged to leave them off. He secretly caused an under- 
garment to be made for him; and in the undergarment he 
had strips of leather fixed, into which a hundred and fifty 
brass nails, pointed and filed sharp, were driven, and the 
points of the nails were always turned toward the flesh. He 
had this garment made very tight, and so arranged as to go 
around him and fasten in front, in order that it might fit the 
closer to his body, and the pointed nails might be driven 
into his flesh; and it was high enough to reach upwards to his 
navel. In this he used to sleep at night. . . . It often 
seemed to him as if he were lying upon an ant-hill, from the 
torture caused by the insects [lice, which were an unfailing 
token of medizval sainthood]; for if he wished to sleep, or 
when he had fallen asleep, they vied with one another. . . . 
He devised something further—two leathern loops into 
which he put his hands, and fastened one on each side his 
throat, and made the fastenings so secure that even if his 
cell had been on fire about him he could not have helped 
himself. This he continued until his hands and arms had 
become tremulous with the strain, and then he devised some- 
thing else: two leather gloves; and he caused a brazier to 
fit them all over with sharp-pointed brass tacks, and he used 
to put them on at night, in order that if he should try while 
asleep to throw off the hair undergarment, or relieve him- 
self from the gnawings of the vile insects, the tacks might 
then stick into his body. And so it came to pass. If 
ever he sought to help himself with his hands in his sleep, 


MONASTICISM AND ASCETICISM I4I 


he drove the sharp tacks into his breast, and tore himself, 
so that his flesh festered. When after many weeks the 
wounds had healed, he tore himself again and made fresh 
wounds.” 

Suso then tells how, to emulate the sorrows of his crucified 
Lord, he made himself a cross with thirty protruding iron 
needles and nails. This he bore on his bare back between his 
shoulders day and night. ‘The first time that he stretched 
out this cross upon his back his tender frame was struck with 
terror at it, and blunted the sharp nails slightly against a 
stone. But soon, repenting of this womanly cowardice, he 
pointed them all again with a file and placed once more the 
cross upon him, It made his back, where the bones are, 
bloody and seared. Whenever he sat down or stood up, it was 
as if a hedgehog-skin were on him. If any one touched him 
unawares, or pushed against his clothes, it torehim. . . . At 
this same period the Servitor procured an old castaway 
door, and he used to lie upon it at night without any bed- 
clothes to make him comfortable, except that he took off his 
shoes and wrapped a thick cloak round him. . . . In win- 
ter he suffered very much from the frost. If he stretched out 
his feet they lay bare on the floor and froze, and if he gathered 
them up the blood became all on fire in his legs, and this was 
great pain. His feet were full of sores, his legs dropsical, his 
knees bloody and seared, his loins covered with scars from 
the horsehair, his body wasted, his mouth parched with in- 
tense thirst, and his hands tremulous from weakness. .. . 
Throughout all these years [twenty-five] he never took a bath, 
either a water or a sweating bath; and this he did in order to 
mortify his comfort-seeking body. He practised during a 
long time such rigid poverty that he would neither receive nor 
touch a penny, either with leave or without it. For a con- 
siderable time he strove to attain such a high degree of purity 
that he would neither scratch nor touch any part of his body, 


142 MONASTICISM AND ASCETICISM 


save only his hands and feet.’ * If, as some authors think, 
the impulse to sacrifice is the main religious phenomenon, 
then Suso was the most religious of men. 

Other experiences have come to the saint which we can- 
not discuss in full here.? Some saints are said to have ex- 
haled a delicious perfume, “‘the odor of sanctity.” From the 
personal habits of most of those of whom we have record, we 
should be inclined to think that it must have been far from 
agreeable. St. Anthony had never, to extreme old age, been 
guilty of washing his feet; St. Poeman fell into the same 
habit late in life. St. Abraham, who lived fifty years after 
his conversion, never washed his face or feet after that time; 
his biographer somewhat strangely remarks that “his face 
reflected the purity of his soul.”” A famous virgin named 
Silvia rigidly refused to wash any part of her body except her 
fingers. St. Euphraxia joined a convent of one hundred and 
thirty nuns who never washed their feet, and who shuddered 
at the mention of a bath. Paula said, “‘A clean body and a 
clean dress mean an unclean soul”; Jerome wrote Rusticus, 
‘‘Baths stimulate the senses and are therefore to be avoided.” 
The occasional degeneration of the monks into habits of 
decency was a subject of much reproach. 

But this ‘odor of sanctity”? was not only a product of the 
living body but it is said to have been emitted from the 
corpses of some saints. Recent investigations have been 
made to ascertain if there were any scientific foundation for 
the reports. The following quotation gives an epitome of the 
results. 

“In Malory’s ‘History of Prince Arthur,’ written in the 


1 The Life of the Blessed Henry Suso, by Himself (trans. T. F. Knox), 
pp. 56-80, quoted by W. James, The Varieties of Religious Experience, 
PP- 3°97 7. 

*For an epitome of these experiences, see W. E. Lecky, History of 
European Morals, I, pp. 107-112. 


MONASTICISM AND ASCETICISM 143 


fifteenth century, . . . when his comrades found Sir Launce- 
lot dead, they noticed ‘the sweetest savor about him that 
ever they smelled.’ Malory explains that this was the odor 
of sanctity. Inthe Revue de Paris for December 1, Dr. George 
Dumas analyzes materialistically, but not unkindly, a num- 
ber of the legends of this odor recorded of the saints of the 
church. While recognizing the elusive nature of odors, how 
easily one may be mistaken for another, and how possible it 
is to fancy them, Dr. Dumas credits most of these stories; 
but he spoils his testimony by explaining them. For exam- 
ple, St. Theresa’s death is traced to diabetic acetonomy, and 
from the facts of physiology he shows how likely pleasant 
odors might be observed in such acase. Usually, the saintly 
odors are compared to those of violet, pineapple, musk, 
benzoin, yellow amber, canella, cloves, orange, lily, and rose. 
For many of these it is now possible to substitute chemical 
terms. In cases where the nutrition is checked acetones and 
fatty acids may be developed. These, combining with alde- 
hydes and acetous aromatic derivatives of alcohol, give rise 
to the perfumes of the orange or violet, or it may be to those 
of canella or musk. Butyric ether, with a little bicarbonate 
of soda, will yield the odor of pineapple. Subject to special 
modifications, Dr. Dumas gives C,H,,O, as the formula for 
the odor of sanctity.” ? 

Some cases of “‘transfiguration”’ have also been reported. 
George Fox says of himself on one occasion (Journal, 1647), 
“‘T was very much altered in countenance and person, as if 
my body had been new moulded and changed.” The Nor- 
folk Beacon, August 19, 1824, reports the case of Miss Narcissa 
Crippen, whose face became transformed and dazzling when 
on one occasion she experienced ecstasy.” The case of 


1The National Druggist: March, 1908, quoting The Chemist and 
Druggist. 
?W. A. Hammond, Spiritism and Nervous Derangement, p. 298. 


144 MONASTICISM AND ASCETICISM 


Valentine Burke, reported by Mr. Moody, while taking 
longer to accomplish, might be classed here. 

So far we have said little of women in connection with 
monastic life, but we find that the origin of nunneries was 
contemporaneous with that of monasteries, and the history 
of female recluses runs parallel to that of the monks. Almost 
~ every male order had its counterpart in some sort of a sister- 
hood. ‘The general moral character of these female organiza- 
tions was higher than that of their brethren. Hermit life was 
unsuited to women, but they early retired to the seclusion of 
convent life. The frivolity, shallowness, and immorality of 
the life of women drove the more thoughtful ones to attempt 
a more serious existence, and at that time this could only be 
found in religious orders. On account of the fine quality of 
mercy that distinguished woman’s character, even although 
she retired to a convent, she could not forget her fellow- 
creatures so completely as the monks; she was always less 
selfish in her asceticism than her male companions. In the 
main, however, the male and female ascetics were much 
alike.’ I append a chronological table: 


A.D. 

Ignatius writes to a convent of virgins . 107 
Council of Chalcedon formulates rules. 154 
Paul of Thebes ; ; . 228-340 
St. Anthony cathershermits into ‘auras . 251-356 
Monasteries built and monks live together, 300 
Pachomius forms first set of rules for mon- 

astery : . 340 
Macarius of Alexandria attracts many : 394 
Basil builds monastery in Asia and has 

strict rules : : « 330-379 
Jerome translated Pachomius? rule : » 340-420 


Monasticism recognized as an integral part 
of the church . : = eeADOUE 375 
Benedictines . : : ‘ ; : 529 


*A. W. Wishart, Monks and Monasteries, pp. 106-115. 


MONASTICISM AND ASCETICISM 


Columbanes 
Cluniacs . 
Carthusians 


Knights of St. John . 


Cistercians 
Beguines . 
Templars . 
Premonstratenians 
Carmelites 
Franciscans 
Dominicans 
Jesuits 

Trappists 


- 543-015 
QI0 
1084 
1074 
1098 
1100 
I11Q 
1126 
1156 
1209 
1215 


1534 
1664 


145 


CHAPTER XII 
RELIGIOUS EPIDEMICS 


““Was ever feather so lightly blown to and fro as this multitude ?”— 
SHAKESPEARE. 


SOCIAL groups at certain times and under certain circum- 
stances are easily stampeded. ‘This is true of both animals 
and men. It is true regardless of the occurrence which may 
initiate it, but probably more true when the incident happens 
to be one which seems vital to the social group. Perhaps we 
have no better examples of psychic epidemics than those 
furnished by religious incidents—religion is a vital issue. 
The history of Christianity, which lies open before every one 
who will read, gives indisputable evidence of this. It is not 
only true of Christianity, however, but as this alone is our 
concern we confine ourselves to viewing the phenomena from 
this standpoint only. The first seventeen hundred years of 
the Christian era, or perhaps more definitely we should say 
the years from the middle of the third century to the end of 
the seventeenth, are made up of one succession of religious 
epidemics. 

The experience of men as recorded in history is seen to 
move in waves. The more primitive the group the shorter 
the wave, other things being equal; but the rapid com- 
munication of later years has more than counteracted the 
advance in civilization, for while the latter tends to lengthen 
and modify the epidemic, the former makes it much shorter 
and more intense. Individual history also moves in waves; 


from the crest of one interest through the valley of monotony 
146 


RELIGIOUS EPIDEMICS 147 


to the crest of a new interest—thus the surges roll. The 
effect of social suggestibility, the heightened power of mob 
consciousness, intensifies and augments the individual waves. 
It is as though the myriads of ripples, making but little im- 
pression on the sandy beach, were united in one great wave 
which should overwhelm the shore. Now, religion being the 
most vital issue and the chief business of mankind for the 
first seventeen centuries of this era, it is only natural to sup- 
pose that all social excitement should centre upon this one 
theme, since most individual effort was directed into this 
channel. These we find to be the facts. 

During the first two hundred and fifty years of Christianity 
a Christian epidemic was impossible. In the first place, it 
was a time of beginnings. There were hardly enough Chris- 
tians to constitute an epidemic; they were unorganized, un- 
acquainted, and their energies were chiefly directed in an 
effort to keep out of the circus and the open claws and gaping 
mouths of the Emperor’s lions, or to escape the prisons and 
the galleys. This furnished all the excitement necessary for 
health, and was the chief concern and subject of conversation 
and thought, together with the desire to add to their num- 
bers. Later, when persecution was lessened, when the num- 
bers became greater, and when opportunity for meditation was 
given, there sprang up a form of mental epidemic which had 
only to be suggested to be carried into the manifold phases of 
Christian activity; and only a new and more wholesome view 
of life has tended to cause it to decay in the last five hundred 
years. I refer to aati which was discussed in the 
last chapter. 

Perhaps some would say, ‘‘ We cannot call this an epidemic, 
for it meant separating men from the world rather than 
bringing them together in a social group.” That is the result 
of the epidemic, but from the time of Paul of Thebes down 
through the Dark and Middle Ages, when this form of 


148 RELIGIOUS EPIDEMICS 


psychic contagion joined itself to other forms as they ap- 
peared, as when certain orders were formed to assist in the 
Crusades, social suggestibility was the kernel of the move- 
ment. At one time this movement swept over the country so 
as to include the mass of the people in its sympathy, and 
almost incredible numbers in actual residence in monasteries. 

After the first blaze of enthusiasm under Paul, Anthony, 
Pachomius, and Basil, the flame died down under the un- 
favorable circumstances of the fifth and sixth centuries, and 
had some other suggestion been brought forward at this 
time Monasticism would probably have been forgotten; but 
Monasticism held the minds of the people. The revival 
under Benedict, after the foundation of the order which bears 
his name, was sufficient to arouse the slumbering people, 
and with the ardor of an entirely new movement it swept the 
world from the storm-bound coasts of England to the sunny 
deserts of Egypt, and from the Pillars of Hercules to the land 
of Ur. 

It is said that St. Pachomius had 14,000 monks in his 
monastery, 7,000 of whom were under his own rule. St. 
Jerome said that 50,000 monks were sometimes assembled at 
the Easter festivals. An Egyptian city named Oxyrynchus, 
which devoted itself almost exclusively to the ascetic life, 
contained 20,000 virgins and 10,000 monks. Five thousand 
monks were sometimes under one abbot, and St. Serapion 
presided over 10,000. In the fifth century there were more 
than 100,000 persons in monasteries, three-quarters of whom 
were men; the monastic population in the greater part of 
Egypt was nearly equal to the population of the cities. ‘These 
figures pertain, however, to the beginnings, and are small 
compared with the enormous numbers gathered in monas- 
teries after the Benedictine revival. 

At one time the Benedictine order alone had not less than 
37,000 monasteries, and for the space of two hundred and 


RELIGIOUS EPIDEMICS 149 


thirty-nine years this order governed the church by forty-eight 
popes chosen from their number. They boast of 200 car- 
dinals, 7,000 archbishops, 15,000 bishops, and 4,000 saints. 
The assertion is also made that no less than twenty emperors 
and forty-seven kings resigned their crowns to become 
Benedictine monks, and ten empresses and fifty queens were 
included among their converts. Bernard of Clairvaux, of 
the Cistercians, had phenomenal success in winning men to 
the monastic life. It was said that ‘‘mothers hid their sons, 
wives their husbands, and companions their friends, lest they 
be persuaded by his eloquent message to enter the cloister.” 
‘“‘He was avoided like the plague.” 

In the twelfth century the Cluniacs had 2,000 monasteries 
situated in France, besides many in other countries. It 
seems hardly credible; we wonder whence the people 
came to inhabit them. In less than fifty years after the 
foundation of the Franciscan order it consisted of 200,000 
members and had 8,oco houses. When we consider the 
number of orders we can compute the prevalence of the 
epidemic. 

This, in common with all epidemics, exhibited gross exag- 
geration, and the higher faculties of the people seemed to be 
in abeyance. Women were shunned and hated, to prove 
purity; wealth was shunned, to show unworldliness; and 
friend had no more claim on friend than the bitterest enemy, 
to exhibit charity. To eschew idle words a monk held a 
stone in his mouth three years; pride was defeated by dis- 
figuring the body to prevent being appointed bishop; idiocy 
was feigned to stop the spread of a reputation for wisdom; 
the plundered monk pursued the robber to give him something 
he had overlooked. Aristotle the pagan might have taught 
the Christian his valuable system of ethics with profit, for the 
mean certainly has much advantage over extremes of this kind. 
But to say that there was an epidemic is to predicate extremes. 


150 RELIGIOUS EPIDEMICS 


The decline of Monasticism was brought about by three 
factors: a renewal of activity both inside and outside the 
church, of which the crusades were an example; the found- 
ing of the mendicant orders in the early part of the thirteenth 
century, which struck a blow at retirement; and the choice 
made against poverty by both church and orders in 1321. 
Monasticism gave way to a life of more valuable activity. 

Before passing from this epidemic, attention must be called 
to one important element. Monasticism was not only an 
epidemic itself, but it did much to prepare the ground for the 
Golden Age of epidemics, the Middle Ages. The reader will 
recall that the rule of all monasteries contained for a basis 
three factors, however many more might be added. These 
were obedience, poverty, and chastity. Now, one character- 
istic of the Middle Ages was the great weight of authority. 
In the monastery and out, a person’s life was planned for him 
by custom and the will of another, so that there was little or 
no exercise of the individual will. Every detail of life was 
fixed through the various classes and groups into which 
society was divided, and the monk especially knew no ex- 
ception to this law of obedience. It cannot be doubted that 
the influence of the monastery on the outside world was in 
the direction of the abnegation of individual initiative. The 
part which the individual had in the direction of his life was 
confined to its narrowest limits. Nothing could be more 
favorable to the exercise of the subconsciousness, and the 
effect of suggestion is easily seen. 

In addition to this, other circumstances added to the de- 
velopment of the mob consciousness among a diversified 
people: the great religious zeal ‘already referred to, the 
thirst for colonization and conquest which exhibited itself in 
any direction presented, and commercial relations, which were 
now extending so as to influence public opinion and make of 
a heterogeneous mass a more or less homogeneous people. 


RELIGIOUS EPIDEMICS 151 


These, coupled with the social conditions which were brought 
about not a little by the influence of monasticism, prepared 
the people for the suggestible state which at times bordered 
on to, if it did not quite enter, the region of real mania. 

The beginning of the medizval epidemics is seen in the 
influx of pilgrims to the Holy Land. Pilgrimages are not 
original with Christianity. In primitive religions the gods 
were local and could only be approached in certain places. 
As their worshippers became scattered, pilgrimages were 
necessary. Where miracles were performed, or the gods 
seemed to appear with special power, people flocked to wor- 
ship, as it was most likely that where the god had appeared 
once he would come again. ‘The early Christians venerated 
certain places; they visited the saints, and after their deaths 
visited their former habitations. It is only natural that they 
should consider the Holy Land, the country round about and 
including Jerusalem, as especially sacred on account of the 
work of Jesus there; and particularly so the scenes of the 
Passion of our Lord. The tombs of the saints and martyrs 
were also held in great veneration. 

In addition to the attraction furnished by these religious 
ideas, we must also reckon on some other factors, probably 
not so prominent in consciousness, but none the less real. A 
pilgrimage gratified the love of adventure, which was pos- 
sessed by the people of this time in an exaggerated degree; 
it gave an opportunity to see foreign countries; and provided 
a change from the irksome duties which many did not relish. 
The pilgrim usually took upon himself a temporary vow of 
ascetic observances which was only binding so long as he 
was on his pilgrimage. He wore a distinctive costume, con- 
sisting of a broad hat, a black or gray cloak, girt round about 
with a cincture, and he carried a staff in his hand. The pil- 
grim brought from the Holy Land a palm leaf, and conse- 
quently was called a palmer. Different badges distinguished 


152 RELIGIOUS EPIDEMICS 


pilgrims of different places. On account of the meritorious 
endeavors of pilgrims they had many privileges. They were 
entitled to entertainment and assistance from all Christians, 
and were not molested, for being holy men their persons were 
considered sacred. | 

At first pilgrims were rare, but gradually the epidemic 
became well-nigh universal. Caravans consisting of bishops, 
princes, merchants, peasants, and paupers journeyed to 
Jerusalem to fulfil vows and perform acts of religious venera- 
tion in the land where our Saviour trod. In history, pilgrim- 
ages became famous as being the indirect cause of the Cru- 
sades. What were the crusaders, in fact, but armed and 
persistent pilgrims determined to achieve by force what had 
been denied them by privilege? We may obtain a hint of the 
extent of the pilgrim mania when we realize that a single 
band of pilgrims sometimes numbered as many as 7,000 
persons. In 1064 a caravan of this number, led by the 
Archbishop of Mainz and four bishops, was attacked by the 
Bedouins near Jerusalem. The pilgrims were reported to 
have lost 3,000 of their number and were forced to return 
home without visiting the Jordan. In 1076 the Seljouk 
Turks took possession of Jerusalem and began harassing 
the pilgrims, plundering the rich ones, insulting the poor, and 
exacting exorbitant tolls for scanty privileges. Christians 
were much incensed at this treatment and also pained over 
the loss of commerce. All Europe cried for vengeance, and 
when Peter the Hermit began to preach the sacred duty of 
rescuing the Holy City from the unholy Turks he found 
ready ears and open minds. Thus we see how the one epi- 
demic, pilgrimages, developed into a greater and more far- 
reaching one in the Crusades. 

We usually think of the Crusades as a series of organized 
military expeditions, led by Christian princes, which pro- 
ceeded in an orderly manner to recapture the Holy Sepulchre 


RELIGIOUS EPIDEMICS 153 


from the infidels. This is but half the truth. The epidemic 
was so intense that no respect for law, custom, religion, or 
humanity could restrain some from their maniacal acts. A 
hermit named Peter, from Amiens, France, visited the Holy 
Land about twenty years after its capture by the Turks. 
The oppression of the Christians and his personal injuries 
aroused him to try to awaken the Christian world to battle. 
He returned to Europe and visited Pope Urban II, one of 
two rival pontiffs then contesting for the papacy. Urban, 
perhaps as much for political as for religious reasons, gave 
the movement his hearty support, and these two men stirred 
Europe with their appeals. Peter, robed only in a coarse 
garment, carrying a heavy crucifix, and riding upon an ass, 
inspired in the common people the passion which he felt, and 
men, women, and children crowded to his side. 

Urban’s masterly stroke was made at the council of Cler- 
mont in 1094. In addition to a host of bishops, clergy, and 
laity, which filled the city to overflowing, an army encamped 
outside; and his fiery eloquence, for which he was famed, 
evoked the most intense enthusiasm. He appealed to a 
variety of motives—religious enthusiasm, love for fighting and 
adventure, hope of commercial gain, revenge for insult. 
Listen to a few extracts from this wonderful speech. After 
portraying the defilement of the holy places, and the ravishing 
of wives and daughters by pagan lust, he said, ‘“You who 
hear me, and who have received the true faith, and been 
endowed by God with power, and strength, and greatness of 
soul—whose ancestors have been the prop of Christendom, 
and whose kings have put a barrier against the progress of 
the infidel—I call upon you to wipe off these impurities from 
the face of the earth, and lift your oppressed fellow-Christians 
from the depths into which they have been trampled. .. . 
Listen to nothing but the groans of Jerusalem! . . . And 
remember that the Lord has said, ‘He that will not take up 


154 RELIGIOUS EPIDEMICS 


his cross and follow me is not worthy of me.’ You are the 
soldiers of the cross; wear, then, on your breast or on your 
shoulders the blood red sign of Him who died for the salva- 
tion of your soul. . . . Go, then, in expiation of your sins; 
and go assured that after this world shall have passed away 
imperishable glory shall be yours in the world which is to 
come.” Sobs were heard, the enthusiasm could no longer be 
restrained. ‘The people exclaimed as with one voice, ‘‘ Dieu 
le veult! Dieu le veult!”? and men hurried to take the cross. 
The news of this council spread to the remotest parts of 
Europe in an incredibly short time—so quickly, in fact, as to 
be considered supernatural. But then it was in everybody’s 
mouth, nothing else was talked of. Men’s minds were pre- 
pared for anything, any statement was believed, and visions 
and miracles followed. Europe was beside itself. 

The nobles made preparation foi an expedition which cul- 
minated in what is known as the First Crusade, but the 
common people were too poor, too impatient, and too insane 
to wait. In the summer of 1096 an immense mob of men, 
women, and children, from the lower classes, gathered, with 
few horses, scanty provisions, few arms, and not many who 
knew how to use arms if they had them. But nine knights 
were numbered with them. ‘The ringleader of the first mob 
was Walter the Penniless. With his vagabonds he marched 
through Germany, Hungary, and Bulgaria, devastating the 
country as he went, robbing and murdering. While passing 
through Servia, they stormed Belgrade and were almost 
annihilated, but a starving remnant found its way to Con- 
stantinople. 

Peter the Hermit was the leader of the second mob, con- 
sisting of all sorts of inefficient people, the sick, the aged, 
and the babe in arms, This senseless throng provoked the 
wrath of the Hungarians by storming the city of Semlin and 
slaughtering 4,000 of its inhabitants. The remnant, which 


RELIGIOUS EPIDEMICS 155 


escaped hunger, disease, and the anger of those protecting 
property along the way, also arrived in Constantinople, but 
later was almost completely destroyed across the Bosphorus. 

A third and a fourth crowd of like kind followed under the 
leadership of a German priest called Gottschalk, another 
priest named Volkar, and Count Enricon. These employed 
themselves en route in robbing and slaughtering all the Jews 
whom they could find. It is said that, notwithstanding the 
awful mortality, 105,000 of these different bands reached 
Constantinople and assembled under the leadership of Peter 
and Walter. Still refusing to wait for reinforcements of 
trained military men, they pushed forward into Asia Minor, 
where the ferocious Turks made short work of them. The 
significance and magnitude of this initial stage of the epidemic 
may be gathered from the following words of Gibbon: “Of 
the first Crusaders, 300,000 had already perished before a 
single city was rescued from the infidels—before their braver 
and more noble brethren had completed the preparations for 
their enterprise.”’ 

It is not my intention to give in detail a history of the 
regular Crusades which are so well known to every one, but 
I must mention one other incident. Between the Fifth and 
Sixth Crusades, occurred one of the most remarkable events — 
in history, one which showed better than any other the 
epidemical fanaticism of the period. I refer to the so-called 
Children’s Crusade (1212). ‘The sins of the other crusaders 
were given as a reason for their failure, and several mad 
priests went about France and Germany calling on the chil- 
dren to perform what the -wickedness of their fathers had 
prevented their doing. The children were promised that the 
sea would dry up,.the Saracens be stricken, and the Cross and 
Sepulchre recovered. Stephen of Cloyes, a peasant lad of 
twelve years, became the real preacher of the Crusade, and, 
telling of a vision and his commission to lead the Crusade, 


156 RELIGIOUS EPIDEMICS 


quickly aroused the children around Paris. From there the 
contagion spread rapidly over France and Germany. So in- 
tense was the fanatical zeal of the children that nothing could 
restrain them. ‘They were locked up, but escaped; they 
were prohibited by parents, but disobeyed; persuasions they 
disregarded, threats they laughed at, and punishment was un- 
successful; nothing had any effect on the mania. Even if 
forcibly restrained the mania continued, and the children 
sickened and in some cases died. In addition to the children, 
decrepit old men in their second childhood joined the ranks. 

Forty thousand German children, both boys and girls, 
gathered in Cologne to start on this holy war. They were 
without money or provisions, but they cared not. Dividing 
into two armies of 20,000 strong, one led by Nicholas, a boy 
of ten, and the other by an unnamed child, they started for 
Italy. ‘They were robbed of gifts, maltreated, and overcome 
by disease or weather conditions, so that but a small propor- 
tion crossed the Alps. Some went to Rome, where Innocent 
III persuaded them to return home; a few of these succeeded 
in getting back to their native land, in rags and barefoot. 
Laughed at by their friends and unable to explain their 
strange action, the girls having lost their virtue and the boys 
their faith, they wondered why they had ever left their 
homes. The majority, however, never returned, but were 
sold into slavery or into infamous resorts. 

The French army, 30,000 boys and girls, followed Stephen, 
notwithstanding the edict of the king and the attempted re- 
straint of parents. Arriving at Marseilles, and being disap- 
pointed at the failure of the sea to dry up, about 6,000 ac- 
cepted the kind offer of transportation from two merchants, 
Hugh Ferreus and William Porcus (Iron Hugh and Pig Wil- 
liam). The children were crowded into seven ships and 
started. Two of the ships were fortunately lost at sea, but 
the others transported their cargoes to the slave markets of 


RELIGIOUS EPIDEMICS 157 


Africa. This Crusade exhibits in the most striking manner 
the ignorance, superstition, and fanaticism of the age. 

The total loss to Europe by the Crusades is variously 
estimated from 2,000,000 to 7,000,000 lives, the latter being 
nearer correct. In addition to the crusades against the 
Mohammedans, so thoroughly were the people of the time 
possessed by this epidemic that crusades were also organized 
against the Moors in Spain (1146-1232), against the heathen 
Slavonians on the Baltic (1201-1283), and against the Albi- 
genses (1209-1242). During the last crusade the women 
crusaders were attacked by a strange mania; entirely devoid 
of clothing, they rushed about the streets speechless, and in 
some cases fell into ecstatic convulsions. The Crusades 
ended in 1299. 

When the Crusade epidemic was abating, a new one arose. 
In 1260, bands of people in Italy were seized with a craze for 
public scourging, and were called Flagellants. A remorse 
for sin and a belief that blood shed in self-flagellation had a 
share with the blood of Christ in atoning for sin were the 
bases for this movement. Both men and women went in 
groups from town to town and, stripped to the waist, or with 
but a loin cloth about them, they stood in public places and 
scourged one another, at the same time singing or exhorting 
the bystanders. Being vigorously suppressed in Italy, they 
later appeared in Bavaria, Austria, Bohemia, Poland, and 
France. The second main outbreak appeared in 1340, 
directly following the Black Death, which latter epidemic was 
partially of a psychic nature. The terror inspired by this 
great plague aided the flagellants. Many took vows to sub- 
mit to public scourging for thirty-three days, corresponding 
to the thirty-three years of Jesus’ life. They then considered 
themselves cleansed from sin by this “baptism of blood.” 
The Jews were greatly abhorred by these pious fanatics and 
suffered much from their fury in Germany and the Nether- 


158 RELIGIOUS EPIDEMICS 


lands. Aided by others, Jews of both sexes and all ages were 
slaughtered by thousands, death sometimes being inflicted at 
the stake. In 1414 there was a fresh outbreak, and, although 
they appeared occasionally afterward, history does not men- 
tion them after 1544. It is affirmed that they numbered 
sometimes as many as ten thousand, and included persons 
of the highest rank. 

During the decline of Flagellation there appeared the Dan- 
cing epidemic. There were three distinct factors in this 
epidemic, vzz., St. John’s Dance beginning in 1374, St. Vitus’ 
Dance beginning in 1418, and Tarantism which began about 
the middle of the fourteenth century and continued to the 
end. It was thereafter contemporaneous with St. Vitus’ 
Dance. While Hecker recognizes these dates, he says, 
“The dancing mania of the year 1374 was, in fact, no new 
disease, but a phenomenon well known in the Middle Ages, 
of which many wondrous stories were traditionally current 
among the people.” In 1374, assemblies of men and women 
appeared on the streets and in the churches of Aix-la-Cha- 
pelle who seemed to be demented, dancing for hoursin a 
wild delirium. While dancing they seemed to be insensible 
to external impressions, but they saw visions of spirits whose 
names they would shriek, of rivers of blood which they would 
try to escape by leaping high in the air, or of the Saviour, the 
Virgin Mary, or some saints. When completely exhausted 
they fell to the ground suffering from tympanites, which was 
relieved by binding clothes about the abdomens of the pros- 
trate dancers or by pounding them or by jumping on them. 
The epidemic took different forms according to the personal 
equation or the local conditions, as, e. g., in some places 
pointed toes or red colors irritated the dancers. In a few 
months this mania had spread over the Netherlands, Belgium, 
and other countries. The extent of the epidemic may be 
computed when we consider that in Metz alone 1100 dancers 


RELIGIOUS EPIDEMICS 159 


occupied the streets. Occupations were forgotten and homes 
were forsaken by the older ones, and the children left their 
play to join the mad dancers. The clergy tried exorcism, 
and this coupled with natural exhaustion was quite ef- 
fective. St. John the Baptist’s Day was solemnized by all 
sorts of strange and rude customs, heathen rites, and su- 
perstitious ceremonies, hence the name, “St. John’s Dance.” 
Probably it began with the revels on St. John’s Day, 
1374. 

Strasburg was visited by the dancing mania in 1418. The 
town authorities had the afflicted ones led to St. Vitus’ 
Chapel, where priests ministered to them. At St. Vitus’ 
altar persons bitten by mad dogs and those with small-pox 
were cured, and it was thought that the dancers would be 
healed here also. Some were, and the disease was therefore 
called ‘‘St. Vitus’ Dance.” ‘The afflicted ones would some- 
times dance as long as a month, unmindful of lacerated feet. 
If they sat to take nourishment, or tried to sleep, a hop- 
ping movement of the body continued. Sometimes per- 
sons would dash out their brains against a wall or building, 
or rush headlong into rivers and drown. At the begin- 
ning of the sixteenth century physicians began to treat the 
affection. Exhaustion cured many, music assisted, but 
some never regained health. ‘The disease was still in ex- 
istence in the seventeenth century, but not in an epidemic 
form. 

Tarantism was supposed to have been caused by the bite 
of a tarantula, and appeared first in Italy. In addition to the 
symptoms of spider bites, some would dance until insensible 
or exhausted, others would weep, become melancholic, and 
perhaps die. Fear of spider bites affected nervous people, 
and at the close of the fifteenth century it had spread beyond 
the borders of its original starting-place. When affected, 
death was expected, and the victims pined away, becoming 


160 RELIGIOUS EPIDEMICS 


weak-sighted and hard of hearing. Music of a certain kind, 
called tarantella, afforded the only relief, and this must be 
played on the flute or the zither. At the sound of the music 
the victims danced, and by this means it was thought that the 
poison was distributed or excreted. The symptoms varied. 
Victims were excited by metallic lustre, and were quieted or 
enraged by certain colors, not always the same. So potent 
was the poison supposed to be that some had to dance once 
annually for a quarter of a century to be cured for the remain- 
der of each year. It continued for nearly four hundred years, 
but gradually declined until it was confined to individual 
cases with an hysterical or melancholic diathesis. Both sexes 
and all ages suffered, and it is interesting to note that the 
poison of mental contagion, not that of the tarantula, was 
alone the source of danger. 

The witchcraft epidemic has already been described, and, 
as will be remembered, dated from the Bull of Innocent VII, 
in 1484, and lasted down to the middle of the eighteenth 
century. The last execution for witchcraft directly con- 
nected with this epidemic took place in 1749. In 1515, 500 
persons were executed at Geneva for witchcraft. In Lor- 
raine, the learned inquisitor, Remigius, boasted that he put to 
death goo witches in fifteen years. As many more were 
banished from that country, so that whole towns were in 
danger of becoming depopulated. In 1524, 1,000 persons 
were put to death in one year at Como, in Italy, and about 
100 every year after for several years. Nuremberg, Geneva, 
Paris, Toulouse, Lyons, and many other cities made an 
average sacrifice of 200 witches every year; Cologne burned 
300, and the district of Bamberg 400 witches and sorcerers 
annually. In Scotland, for forty years, from 1560-1600, the 
annual average for the execution of witches was 200, 2. ¢@., @ 
total of 8,oo0, or four per week for nearly half a century in a 
population less than that of Massachusetts to-day. It is 


RELIGIOUS EPIDEMICS 161 


conservatively estimated that 30,000 persons in England, 
75,000 in France, and 100,000 in Germany were put to death 
on the charge of witchcraft, and no less than a total of 300,000 
lost their lives in this epidemic. When we consider that such 
men as Blackstone, the authority on law; John Wesley, the 
founder of Methodism; Ralph Cudworth, the philosopher 
and theologian; Sir Thomas Browne, the eminent physi- 
cian, and Sir Matthew Hale, the celebrated jurist, believed 
in witchcraft and condemned witches, we cannot blame 
the common people for their credulity. This ended the 
great epidemics which had lasted for fifteen hundred 
years. 

But why did they, or why should they, end at this time? 
Two factors enter into the explanation. Up to this time 
religion was the chief concern of the people; after this, com- 
merce seized the mind of the world, and the epidemics since 
then, which have been many and continuous, have been of a 
financial character. The second factor is found in religious 
enthusiasm and excitement seeking an outlet in another form. 
This was the revival. The Great Awakening in America, 
and the Wesleyan Revival in England, began during the first 
half of the eighteenth century, and a continuous series can be 
traced since that time. 

Appended is a chronological table to assist in tracing the 
epidemics: 


Monasticism ; Bi uae . 250-1209 
Pilgrimages : ° : : » 1000-1095 
Crusades . : aN - . 1096-1299 
Flagellants . . : : : . 1260-1454 
Dancing. ; ; ‘ : . 1374-1650 
Witchcraft . : : : : . 1484-1749 


These epidemics necessarily overlap, for a few hold on to 
the old fads until the new ones have a firm hold on the 


162 RELIGIOUS EPIDEMICS 


people. This is more noticeable with Monasticism than 
with any of the others, for it is of such a character that it 
easily combines with other forms.’ 


For the material used in this chapter, I am indebted to C. Mackay, 
Extraordinary Popular Delusions; B. Sidis, The Psychology of Sugges- 
tion, Pt. II; J. F. C. Hecker, The Epidemics of the Middle Ages; as well 
as various histories and encyclopedic articles. 


CHAPTER XIII 
CONTAGIOUS PHENOMENA 


“For all the rest, 
They’ll take a suggestion as a cat laps milk.’””-—SHAKESPEARE. 


In the history of religious experience we meet with many 
instances of contagious phenomena which are not sufficiently 
widespread to be called epidemics, and may be confined to a 
few individuals for a short time, or agitate a mob for months. 
Of all infatuations, that of religion is most fertile in abnormal 
conditions of both mind and body, and both spread with the 
greatest facility by imitation. Of course, this contagious 
tendency is not confined to religious phenomena, but finds 
an abundant opportunity for expression in religion, especially 
during emotional excitement. 

In the recent study of the psychology of the crowd certain 
observations have been made and certain generalizations 
have been framed into laws. It may be well to look at some 
of these. The law of origin is thus stated: ‘Impulsive 
social action originates among people who have least inhibi- 
tory control.’”’ Others may follow, but it begins with the un- 
stable. In 1787, at a cotton factory at Hodden Bridge, Lan- 
cashire, a girl was thrown into convulsions by a mouse being 
put into her bosom. The next day three more were seized, 
and the day following six more. The idea prevailed that a 
new disease had been conveyed in the cotton, and about 
thirty girls were affected, all of whom were cured by elec- 
tricity." The cure was probably as suggestive as the disease. 


1 J. F. C. Hecker, The Epidemics of the Middle Ages, p. 140. 
163 


% 


164 CONTAGIOUS PHENOMENA 


Compare with this Finney’s experience in a cotton factory at 
New York Mills, N. Y., in 1825. ‘‘The next morning after 
breakfast I went into the factory, to look through it. As I went 
through, I observed there was a good deal of agitation among 
those who were busy at their looms, and their mules, and other 
implements of work. On passing through one of the apart- 
ments, where a great number of young women were attending 
to their weaving, I observed a couple of them eyeing me, and 
speaking very earnestly to each other; and I could see that 
they were a good deal agitated, although they both laughed. 
I went slowly toward them. They saw me coming, and were 
evidently much excited. One of them was trying to mend a 
broken thread, and I observed that her hands trembled so 
that she could not mend it. I approached slowly, looking on 
each side, at the machinery, as I passed; but observed that 
this girl grew more and more agitated, and could not proceed 
with her work. When I came within eight or ten feet of her, 
I looked solemnly at her. She observed it, and was quite 
overcome, and sunk down, and burst into tears. The im- 
pression caught almost like powder, and in a few moments 
nearly all the room were in tears. This feeling spread 
through the factory. . . . The revival went through the 
mill with astonishing power, and in the course of a few days 
nearly all in the mill were hopefully converted.” * It will 
readily be seen that both the mouse and the evangelist owed 
the beginning of their power to the nervous condition of the 
first person affected. 

The second law, the law of extension, is that “Impulsive 
social action tends, through imitation, to extend and intensify 
in geometrical progression.”’ In a Methodist chapel at Red- 
ruth, a man during divine service cried out with a loud voice, 
‘What shall I do to be saved?” and manifested great solici- 
tude for his salvation. Others followed his example and all 


C. G. Finney, Autobtography, p. 183 }. 


CONTAGIOUS PHENOMENA 165 


were afflicted with great bodily pain. This was soon publicly 
known, and many who came to see fell into the same state. 
The disorder spread over the towns of Camborne, Helston, 
Truro, Penryn, Falmouth, and other neighboring towns. It 
was confined to Methodist chapels, and it seized only people 
of the lowest education. Great anguish was manifested, 
convulsions appeared, and the victims cried out like those 
possessed. Four thousand were affected in a short time. 
Exhaustion finally came to their relief, but before this ap- 
peared there was no way to quiet them. Neither age nor sex 
was spared by the contagion.’ Many cases of a similar nature 
will be noticed of Revivals. 

The law of control has been given in these words: “Sym- 
pathetic popular movements tend to spread themselves with 
abandon, and are held in check only if there are a consider- 
able number of individuals scattered through the population 
who are trained in the habit of control, who are accustomed 
to subordinate feeling to rational considerations and who act 
as bulwarks against the advance of the overwhelming tide of 
imitation and emotion.”’* The epidemic nature of the sug- 
gestion among the children at the time of the Children’s 
Crusade, and the attempted inhibition on the part of the 
King, the Pope, and the parents, give us an example of this 
third law. 

Gustave Le Bon’s psychological analysis of the crowd® 
was and is a most valuable addition to science. In his study 
he discovered principles of crowd behavior which, we may 
readily see, apply to the religious crowd. Let me epitomize 
some of his conclusions in an endeavor to show how rigidly 
normal we are in our most abnormal religious experiences, 


1J. F. C. Hecker, The Epidemics of the Middle Ages, p. 142. 

2F, M. Davenport, Primitive Traits in Religious Revivals, pp. 3-7, 
gives all three of these rules. 

3G. Le Bon, The Crowd. 


166 CONTAGIOUS PHENOMENA 


which some people designate as supernormal. A crowd, while 
little adapted to reasoning, is quick to act. It is impulsive, 
mobile, and irritable. The sentiments of a crowd are simple 
and exaggerated; crowds may be criminal, but they are also 
virtuous and heroic, and excesses of one kind or another are 
usually present. A crowd has its own way of reasoning— 
it jumps at conclusions, yet this is mostly in superficial mat- 
ters, in greater things it is conservative. Thus it is that 
civilizations have been created and directed by a small in- 
tellectual aristocracy, and never by crowds. The crowd is 
destructive, not creative. The intellectual aptitude of the 
individual is merged in the crowd, and the subconscious ele- 
ments, which are largely primitive, prevail. By forming a 
part of an organized crowd the individual descends several 
rungs in the ladder of civilization. 

The primitive character of the crowd is shown by its credu- 
lity, 7. €., its suggestibleness; this is the reason it is so easily 
moved. The same trait is seen in children who accept al- 
most any suggestion without questioning. ‘‘ Magistrates are 
in the habit of repeating that children do not lie. Did they 
possess a psychological culture a little less rudimentary than 
is the case they would know that, on the contrary, children 
invariably lie; the lie is doubtless innocent, but it is none the 
less a lie.” This fact has already been brought out in 
connection with the witchcraft evidence, but it is also true of 
crowds as of children. In connection with suggestibleness 
there is noticed the vivid imagination of the crowd, by which 
the unreal easily becomes real. The speech of Antony in 
Shakespeare’s Julius Cesar is a skilful portrayal of the effect 
of the imagination and of suggestion on the crowd. In its 
effect the impulsive and unreasonable attitude of the crowd 
isalsoshown. ‘The crowd meets Cinna, and it matters not to 
them that it is Cinna the poet rather than Cinna the conspira- 
tor, his name is Cinna, and they will kill him just the same. 


CONTAGIOUS PHENOMENA 167 


The leader of a crowd is usually a despot, for the crowd 
respects force, but interprets kindness as weakness. He 
never sways the crowd by reason, the crowd is not reasonable; 
but the modus operand: is to affirm stoutly even to exaggera- 
tion, to repeat the affirmation adroitly, and to trust to the 
emotional contagion, which is part of the crowd mind. The 
crowd is dictatorial and intolerant, but after placing itself, 
which it instinctively does, under a leader, who is usually a 
strong-willed man who knows how to impose himself upon 
the members, it follows him blindly. 

The more primitive the people, the more easily is the crowd 
spirit inculcated; but regardless of the personnel, under 
proper conditions the mob consciousness may appear and 
the highly cultivated gentleman become the savage in com- 
pany with his suddenly degenerated brethren. ‘‘Once the 
mob self is . . . brought to the surface, it possesses a 
strong, attractive power and a great capacity of assimila- 
tion. It attracts fresh individuals, breaks down their per- 
sonal life, and quickly assimilates them; it effects in them a 
disaggregation of consciousness and assimilates the sub- 
waking selves. ‘The assimilated individual . . . enters fully 
into the spirit of the mob.’’? 

So great is the collective power of suggestion that a crowd 
sees things which never exist, and hears sounds which are 
purely imaginary. Not only does this apply to one depraved 
member, but it may be experienced by every member in the 
crowd. ‘Those who read and observe cannot avoid noticing 
this phenomenon in all avenues of life. The incident is told 
of a humorist who planted himself in an attitude of astonish- 
ment, with his eyes riveted on the well-known bronze lion 
that graces the front of Northumberland House in the 
Strand. Having attracted the attention of those who were 
passing, he muttered, ‘‘By heaven it wags! it wags again!” 

*B. Sidis, The Psychology of Suggestion, p. 304. 


168 CONTAGIOUS PHENOMENA 


and in a few minutes he contrived to blockade the whole 
street with an immense crowd, some conceiving that they 
had absolutely seen the lion of Percy wag its tail, others ex- 
pecting to witness the same phenomenon. Whether this is 
true or not, it is well within the bounds of possibility, and if 
it must be classed under the head of fiction, it was invented 
by some person who understood the psychology of the crowd. 

In the heat and excitement of battle a vision experienced 
by one person is suggested to his comrades, and whole armies 
may see the same. The ancients supposed that they saw 
their deities, Castor and Pollux, fighting in the van for their 
encouragement; the heathen Scandinavians beheld the 
Choosers of the Slain, and Christians were no less easily 
led to recognize the warlike St. George and St. James in 
the front of the strife, showing them the way to conquest. 
It will be remembered that St. George was seen on the walls 
of Jerusalem by the army of the Crusaders, who did not 
doubt the reality of the suggested vision. ‘There have been 
many religious experiences which may be explained by 
applying these principles of collective psychology, and while 
we cannot enumerate all of them, we can, at least, present 
examples which might be extended indefinitely, and may be 
applied by others to incidents that may come under their 
observation or be presented by history. 

In 1727, there died in Paris a certain Francis, the Deacon 
Paris, connected with the Jansenists. He was thought to be 
very holy on account of his extravagant asceticism. His 
tomb was in the cemetery of St. Médard, and three years after 
his death it was rumored that miracles had taken place there. 
Immediately many persons crowded to the cemetery, and 
fanatical prayers, prophesying, and preaching were heard. 
The sick were brought to be cured, and many excited persons 
found their way there. Presently, violent physical manifesta- 
tions were experienced by some patients, and before long the 


CONTAGIOUS PHENOMENA 169 


contagion of the nervous disorder was so great that about 
eight hundred people were seized by it. These actions have 
been variously described: ‘‘ Patients were seized with con- 
vulsions and tetanic spasms, rolled upon the ground like 
persons possessed, were thrown into violent contortions of 
their heads and limbs, and suffered the greatest oppression, 
accompanied by quickness and irregularity of pulse.”’ ‘They 
threw themselves into the most violent contortions of body, 
rolled about on the ground, imitated birds, beasts, and fishes, 
and at last when they had completely spent themselves went 
off in a swoon.” It was on account of these strange actions 
that they were called ‘“‘Convulsionaries.” All sorts of con- 
tortions were experienced, and many disorders of the nerves 
developed. Sometimes they were in such pain that they 
needed the assistance of their brethren in the faith, hence 
they were called by some “‘Secourists.” This degenerated 
at last into insanity. In 1733, by order of King Louis XV the 
cemetery was closed and the fanatics were imprisoned; but 
this tended to increase rather than to decrease the numbers. 
They continued without interruption until 1790, and existed 
as late as 1828. 

The Convulsionaries were a type. We find scattered 
through history certain sects that indulged in these nervous 
twitchings and contortions. The Camisards before them, 
and the French Prophets later, were known to favor like 
actions. The Jumpers of England founded in 1760, the 
Jumpers of Russia founded in 1873, and other sects of 
Jumpers, Shakers, and Jerkers, received their respective 
names on account of these contagious nervous phenomena. 

In 1893, I attended a meeting of a sect called “‘ McDonald- 
ites,” on Prince Edward Island, Canada. ‘The process of 
conversion extended over some weeks or months, and there 
were two young people then ‘“‘going through the works.” 
The process was very similar to that described as ‘‘the jerks” 


170 CONTAGIOUS PHENOMENA 


in the Kentucky revival. As soon as the pastor commenced 
to preach the candidates began to twitch and jerk. One of 
the candidates, a young woman, was particularly susceptible. 
She twitched and moved her head so violently that her hat 
was thrown off, her hair pins scattered, her long hair waved, 
and finally snapped. ‘This was continued for over an hour, 
reminding one of a severe attack of chorea. The interesting 
part, in connection with our subject, was the difficulty ex- 
perienced, after watching these people twitch, in controlling 
myself. It seemed that it would have required but little 
longer to put me in the candidate class. The very fear of 
the on-looker that he may be similarly attacked acts as a 
powerful suggestion, and the more suggestible soon realize 
their fears. In accordance with the law of suggestion, every 
new case adds power to the new cause, and soon conditions 
are ripe for the rapid spread of the psychic disorder over a 
whole community. 

The Jews have had a number of ‘Messiahs.” When 
Sabbathai Zevi, in 1666, declared himself the Messiah, men, 
women, and children flocked to him, became hysterical, and 
then contagious nervous disorders were soon present in great 
force. Since then both Jews and Christians have experienced 
like phenomena in espousing the cause of numerous “ Mes- 
siahs.”” In our own times some of the best examples of con- 
tagious phenomena may be seen in connection with the few 
remaining camp meetings. At Old Orchard Beach a crowd 
of several thousands is made to give up all the valuables and 
money carried into the amphitheatre, and some of those who 
contribute most have simply gone in to “‘see how it was done.” 
They come out with more experience and less money, but 
still unable to comprehend the rationale of the process. 

Probably the best example we have of contagious phenom- 
ena under the name of the Christian religion is that found 
among the ignorant and primitive negroes of the southern 


CONTAGIOUS PHENOMENA Lip 


United States. Living to-day but a few generations from 
savagery, we cannot expect a fully developed religious con- 
sciousness. The negroes, being imported into America as 
full-grown men and women, would naturally bring some of 
their religious beliefs with them. Although the priests were 
left behind, the language changed, and the rites prohibited, 
some vestiges of the religion yet remain.’ Savagery and 
civilization dwell in the same spirit, Voodooism and Chris- 
tianity are mixed in strange confusion. The negro saw 
spirits in everything while in Africa, and if he kept on good 
terms with spirits his duty was done. He felt no obligation 
to his fellowmen, and religion had nothing to do with moral 
conduct. There was therefore no inconsistency between 
piety toward his gods, and crime against his companions. 
Thus we find the negro to-day the most religious and the 
most immoral of men, the present paradoxical condition being 
a survival of his former beliefs. 

In addition to these superstitious and immoral traits in his 
character, the negro combines dense ignorance and weak will 
with vivid imagination and volatile emotion. This causes 
him to be especially easily moved in a crowd, and he is par- 
ticularly susceptible to psychic contagion. The negro 
preacher is the ‘“‘leader”’ of the crowd, and owes his position 
to his peculiar power of swaying the congregation. He leads 
them in religion as he leads them in politics and in all other 
social affairs. ‘‘The colored minister has been the social 
radical, proclaiming the equality of races according to the 
Scriptures, always the emotional orator swaying his audiences 
at will, expounding the doctrines of depravity and damnation, 
and too often illustrating them in his daily practice, appealing 
to the instinctive emotions of fear and hate as well as love, the 
mourner, the shouter, the visioner, rioting in word pictures, 


1 J. A. Tillinghart, ‘“The Negro in Africa and America,” Publication 
of the American Economic Association, III, No. 2, p. 151. 


172 CONTAGIOUS PHENOMENA 


his preaching an incoherent, irrational, rhythmic ecstasy, his 
thinking following absolutely the psychological law of the 
blending of mental images, Here is a primitive man with 
primitive traits in a modern environment.” * As the natural 
descendant of the African medicine-man, “‘he early appeared 
on the plantation and found his function as the healer of the 
sick, the interpreter of the Unknown, the comforter of the 
sorrowing, the supernatural avenger of wrong, and the one 
who rudely but picturesquely expressed the longing, disap- 
pointment, and resentment of a stolen and oppressed people.’’? 
With such a leader and such a crowd the effect may well be 
imagined. 

The church is the social centre and every negro belongs to 
it. Meetings are held two or three times a week besides Sun- 
day, and often last all night. So exhausting are they that a 
“revival”? season is dreaded by the planters, as it impairs work 
in the field. The meetings are conducted in such a way as 
to excite the greatest emotion and to be favorable to the highest 
degree of suggestion. Monotonous hymns are chanted through 
perhaps twenty verses, some of the sisters, especially, sway 
rhythmically through the sermon, while others pray, and the 
brethren shout. The sermon consists of distorted imagery, 
exciting for the moment, but more hurtful than helpful to 
ignorant minds, assisting greatly as it does in increasing the 
excitement. When the emotion becomes violent, muscular 
contractions and other physical manifestations are to be seen. 
Then, at some of the protracted meetings, foaming at the 
mouth, uncontrolled muscular contractions, collapse, cata- 
lepsy, convulsions, and dancing are not infrequent. The 
collapse, called “‘falling out,’’ is considered a clear manifesta- 
tion of the working of the Divine Spirit, and must be ex- 

1F. M. Davenport, Primitive Traits in Religious Revivals, p. 50. 


?W. E. B. Dubois, The Souls of Black Folks, p. 1096. 
*C. Deming, By-Ways of Nature and Life, Negro Rites and Worship. 


CONTAGIOUS PHENOMENA 173 


perienced by all who are called to preach. The rhythmic 
movement and sound, the encouraging shout, and “falling 
out” are characteristic of the negro religion. 

In large assemblies one shout or one person swaying will be 
sufficient to set the whole meeting in motion. Inquiring of a 
teacher in a negro school for higher education in the South 
if she had ever witnessed any of these characteristic negro 
phenomena, she replied that in her experience only once had 
she seen anything of that nature, for the students were very 
particular not to exhibit these peculiarities, as they con- 
sidered them to be undignified and unbefitting students in 
an institution for higher education. The exceptional occa- 
sion was when the students were gathered together, several 
hundred of them, and sang one of the negro songs in as 
proper a manner as any white students could do. In some 
way an old negro “‘auntie” had found her way into the build- 
ing, and at the end of the first verse she shouted, swayed, and 
started into the second verse before the organ could begin. 
Like wildfire the students followed the ‘‘auntie,”’ as if all the 
native, pent-up emotion were but tinder to the spark so un- 
consciously set by this illiterate old woman. It was suffi- 
ciently contagious to carry them excitedly through the song, 
notwithstanding the former control of years. 


CHAPTER XIV 
REVIVALS 


“There is some soul of goodness in things evil, 
Would men observingly distil it out.””—SHAKESPEARE. 


In our study of revivals our attention will inevitably be 
called to certain extravagances. It may be well to say at the 
beginning and to keep in mind throughout, that the value of 
revivals is recognized. Revivals have been an incompre- 
hensible confusion of good and evil, and there is no desire to 
minimize the former. In the chapter on Conversion an at- 
tempt will be made to analyze the beneficent effects of revival 
and other forms of conversion, but here let us look at the 
movements of the past and point out the psychological ele- 
ments, in order that we may, if possible, determine their 
proper value. 

Not a few of the evil practices and results have already 
been forced into desuetude by the enlightenment of our age, 
but so many object to any criticism of revivals and revival 
methods that many undesirable features are still to be found. 
The following quotation very fairly presents the attitude of 
many. ‘“‘An effeminate preacher of the academic sort in 
the present day, sitting down to analyze such a work [Ken- 
tucky Revival of 1800] is as incapable of comprehending it as 
the dainty dandies of the days of Rehoboam would have been 
unable to understand the miraculous achievements of Gideon’s 
three hundred.” * A most charming comparison, which means, 
of course, “‘Hands off.”’ That is the trouble—the very ex- 

1W. A. Chandler, Great Revivals and the Great Republic, p. 181. 

174 


REVIVALS 178 


travagances, the very defects, the very evils, the very crimes, 
are precisely what the revivalist clings to tenaciously as the 
special seal of God’s approval on his work. The fruits of 
the spirit in a revival service are not love, joy, peace, etc., but 
shouting, weeping, fainting, hysteria, and epilepsy. Jesus 
Christ, who moved quietly among men, who talked like a 
rational human being and gained individual men’s consent 
to the good life in a sane manner, who eschewed the crowd 
and never had an experience, of which we have any record, 
which had the least semblance to a revival, would to-day be 
classed by some revivalists as a rationalist, or as one lacking 
in spirituality. Pentecost is the only New Testament inci- 
dent which coincides with the revival, yet we do not read of 
any effort of Peter or of the other apostles to duplicate it. 
Paul’s is the only typical explosive conversion of which we 
read there, yet we do not find him trying to set it as the type 
for all men to follow. 

Of course, there are revivals and revivals. As the word 
has been used, it refers to the widespread religious move- 
ments of the last century and a half. We have had, we have 
now, and shall have probably for a while longer, miniature 
copies of these movements in different localities. Some who 
have charge of them endeavor to imitate especially the ex- 
travagances, while others try to procure the good results 
without the concomitant evil. The ideal is to have all who 
endeavor to advance the Kingdom of God by means of 
special, large gatherings, eliminate the injurious factors and 
cling only to the good and profitable. Let us examine the 
revivals. 

The revival movement en with “The Great Awakening” 
in 1734. No one would claim that this was the first revival. 
Most of the great religious movements. might be classed as 
revivals. The Reformation has been so classed, but the 
Reformation was a religio-political revolution rather than a 


176 REVIVALS 


revival. In the seventeenth century we have some fore- 
runners. In 1625 a revival took place in the North of Ire- 
land which was not unlike some later ones. Of this it has 
been said, ‘‘The people, awakened and inquiring, many of 
them both desponding and alarmed, both desired guidance 
and instruction. The judicious exhibition of evangelical 
doctrines and promises by these faithful men [the leaders] 
was in due time productive of those happy and tranquillizing 
effects which were early predicted as the characteristic of 
gospel times.”? In the same year a revival took place in 
Scotland, beginning at Stewarton. Some idea of its character 
may be gained from the fact that it was called the ‘‘ Stewarton 
Sickness.” At Shotts, Scotland, John Livingston preached 
a sermon on June 21, 1630, under which five hundred are 
said to have been converted.’ In the very church where 
“The Great Awakening” began, Solomon Stoddard, the 
grandfather of Jonathan Edwards, had five “harvests” during 
his pastorate from 1672 to 1729. ‘These were in 1679, 1683, 
1696, 1712, and 1718, and the converts at these times in- 
cluded most of the young people in town. ‘These and similar 
experiences were but harbingers—the first gusts before the 
whirlwind. 

Prior to 1734 religion was at a low ebb in New England, 
although there still remained a reverence for God and a fear 
of His wrath, of the devil, and of hell. These fears the 
revivalists used and played on very successfully. Edwards, 
with his remarkable personality and vivid imagery presented 
such themes as, ‘‘Sinners in the hands of an angry God,” 
“The justice of God in the damnation of sinners,’ “‘ Wrath 
upon the wicked to the uttermost,’’ and ‘‘The eternity of 
hell torments.” With much skill and tremendous effect he 
pictured the spider being devoured by the fierce flames, the 
hyperesthetic human writhing in the fiery furnace, and 

1 John Macpherson, Revival and Revival Work. 


REVIVALS 14 


the soul in the clutches of cruel devils. With such seed sown 
the harvest can well be imagined. Weeping, crying, wailing, 
shrieking, and fainting were common in meetings, and in the 
beginning Edwards justified them; later, his good sense came 
to his rescue and he lamented that he had not taken a more 
decided stand against such delusions. 

In 1735 there was scarcely an unconverted person in 
Northampton, and most of the recent converts had become 
such by the only method Edwards preached—a spiritual con- 
vulsion. It was not long before the revival spread over the 
surrounding country, and then over all New England. The 
revival thus started was carried on by Davenport, Wheelock, 
Barber, Parsons, Bellamy, Pomroy, Allen, Bliss, and others. 
Most of them preached the same doctrines that Edwards did, 
but lacked his good common sense. All manner of extrava- 
gances were indulged and encouraged. Davenport, es- 
pecially, was successful in producing tremblings, shriekings, 
fallings, and faintings. In his method he used not only the 
passionate appeal, but laying aside his coat he would leap, 
clap his hands, stamp, and scream, until the already excited 
audience would shriek and fall into fits. F ortunately he was 
arrested and brought before the Assembly of Connecticut, 
which judged him insane and ordered him deported from the 
colony. Later he was arrested in Boston and indicted for a 
breach of the peace. Barber and others continued the irra- / 
tional and disorderly work until Whitefield came in 1840. | 
Of course this is not the whole story; Edwards was driven” 
out of his parish a few years later, dissensions arose in the 
churches, and much bitterness developed; but we must also 
note that churches were founded, theological doctrines were 
changed and modified, and some apathetic and unrighteous 
persons became sane Christians notwithstanding the insane 
methods. 

The culmination of “‘The Great Awakening” took place 


178 REVIVALS 


under the ministry of Whitefield, who travelled from Maine 
to Georgia several times, frequently speaking many times a 
day to large crowds, and meeting with much success in re- ) 
claiming men. He was assisted by clergymen in different 
states, not the least of whom were Gilbert and William Ten- 
nant in New Jersey. Naturally there were extravagances, | 
Whitefield himself laying much emphasis on the value of 
impressions and impulses. He spoke very enthusiastically 
of Davenport’s work, and did not apparently criticise the 
excesses. Weeping and crying were not uncommon at his 
meetings, and less frequently more disorder. It is estimated 
that at least 50,000 converts resulted from ‘‘The Great Awak- 
ening”; and this, considering the population, was a large 
number. Those physically, mentally, and spiritually in- 
jured have not been estimated. Through Whitefield’s un- 
tiring efforts this revival did not die out until 1770, but it 
abated after 1750.’ 

The Wesleyan revival, as is common with all revivals, fol- 
lowed a period of religious decline. The leader read of the 
Northampton revival with its bodily manifestations, and in 
1739, when his revival began, these physical concomitants 
were seen for the first time in England. They took place at 
the beginning of his ministry, principally at Bristol and 
among the ignorant inhabitants of the nearby town of Kings- 
wood, and after an almost complete suspension for four years 
they appeared with great force in Chowden, which Wesley 
called ‘‘the Kingswood of the North.”’ The manifestations 


———e—e—eee 


— 


; 
i 


’ 


meme 


1 See further Jonathan Edwards’ Works; J. Tracy, The Great Awaken- 
ing; C. Chauncy, Seasonable Thoughts on the State of Religion in New 
England; F. M. Davenport, Primitive Traits in Religious Revivals; W. 
A. Chandler, Great Revivals and the Great Republic; J. Moses, Patho- 
logical Aspects of Religions; R. Philip, The Life and Times of George — 
Whitefield; S. P. Hayes, ‘‘An Historical Study of the Edwardean Re- © 
vivals,” American Journal of Psychology, XV, pp. 550-574; G.S. Hall, | 
Adolescence, II, pp. 281-288. 


REVIVALS 179 


consisted of trembling, screaming, and weeping, but prin- 
cipally of falling to the ground and suffering excruciating 
pain. Wesley at first encouraged these things and looked 
upon them asa sign of God’s favor, but later the good sense, 
so characteristic of him as of Edwards, revealed to him his 
error, and he henceforth looked upon them as the work of 
Satan. Wesley was not emotional, and there was very little 
of the sensational in his meetings; but his forceful personality 
created emotion in his hearers, which showed itself in this 
falling phenomenon. 

As Edwards had his Davenport and Barber, so Wesley had 
his Berridge and Hicks, who preached near Cambridge, 
where the manifestations were carried to awful extremes by 
them. In 1790, one year before his death, Wesley found 
that the organization, of which he was the head, boasted of 
511 preachers, 120,000 members, and about 500,000 adherents 
in all. Notwithstanding the extravagances of the first part of 
his ministry, Wesley’s later life exhibited marked control and 
remarkably good judgment for the age in which he lived, a 
judgment and control in glaring contrast to that of some of 
his followers in later, and what should be more sensible, 
times.’ 

The Kentucky revival of 1800 is emblazoned on the pages 
of history on account of the enormous numbers in attendance 
at the camp-meetings and the violence and variety of the 
abnormal manifestations. The population in Kentucky at 
this time was fundamentally Scotch-Irish of good stock, but 
mixed with this were lazy, shiftless, cowardly descendants of 
criminal and convict emigrants; Logan County was called 
“Rogues’ Harbor” and “‘Satan’s Stronghold.” The latter 


‘For first-hand material see Wesley’s Journals; see further over forty 
biographies which have been published of Wesley; F. M. Davenport, 
Primitive Tratis in Religious Revivals; W. A. Chandler, Great Revivals 
and the Great Republic. 


180 REVIVALS 


element furnished the tinder so essential for the sweeping 
conflagration. The suggestive and contagious character of 
the population may be estimated by the parallelism known 
to exist between the revival counties and the lynching counties 
of Kentucky.’ 

When Rev. James McGready, a Presbyterian minister, 
came to Logan County, he brought with him the Edwardsian 
slogan of the awful wrath of God upon impenitent sinners. 
He would portray hell so vividly that persons would grasp the 
seats to prevent falling into the burning abyss which they saw 
yawning at their feet. His meetings .attracted great crowds 
and his fame was widespread. In 1799, the two McGee 
brothers turned aside, while on their way to Ohio, to attend a 
sacramental solemnity, and incidentally to hear the noted 
McGready. Both brothers spoke during the meeting that 
day, at the end of which began the manifestations which 
make this series of meetings so famous. John McGee said 
that when the first meeting closed, ‘‘the floor was covered with 
the slain.” 

From here the revival spread over Kentucky, North Caro- 
lina, and Virginia with great rapidity. The camp-meetings, 
however, held at Gasper River, Logan Co., and Cane Ridge, 
Bourbon Co., Kentucky, eclipsed all other meetings. At the 


Cane Ridge meeting it is estimated that 20,000 people at- 


' tended, some driving in carts fifty miles. Everything was 


forsaken on farms and in villages, and with their families, 
bedding, and provisions in their wagons, men drove to the 
meetings. On arriving there the wagons were placed in rows, 
like streets, and people gave themselves up to excitement and 
excesses, never thinking of returning home until the provisions 
were exhausted. 

Especially at night, with the camp-fires blazing around the 
auditorium cut out of the dense woods, the breeze echoing 

1F. M. Davenport, Primitive Traits in Religious Revivals, p. 302 }. 


REVIVALS 181 


back the shrieks and other noises from the impenetrable 
forest, and several men preaching at different parts of the 
grounds at the same time, the effects were greatly increased. 
Large numbers fell and would lie breathless and motionless 
for hours, or would shriek or groan at intervals. As many as 
one in every six present at some meetings fell. At times 
these were carried to the meeting-house and laid down so 
that the floor was nearly covered. Some were motionless, 
“some talked but could not move. Some beat the floor with 
their heels. Some, shrieking in agony, bounded about like - 
a live fish out of water. Many lay down and rolled over and 
over for hours at a time. Others rushed wildly over the 
stumps and benches, and then plunged, shouting, ‘Lost! 
Lost!’ into the forest.”” It was a common sight to see men 
leap, sob, shout, laugh, or swoon, and when a meeting seemed 
dull, one attack would immediately increase the spirituality. 
The ‘‘jerks” seized saint and sinner alike, it was no respecter 
of persons. Those affected shook, twitched, jumped like 
frogs, or bounded like fish, and the scoffer was as likely to be 
stricken as the convert. These reflex movements first ap- 
peared, but when the cerebral hemispheres became involved, 
then unconsciousness was the result. Then the ‘‘barkers” 
were seen. Groups of men and women, on all fours, snarling, 
and growling, and snapping their teeth, barked at the foot of 
a tree. This they called “‘treeing the devil.” The “holy 
laugh” became a part of the worship; both in chorus and in 
series the congregation burst out into loud and uncontrollable 
laughter. All kinds of preachers and exhorters developed; 
in one instance a little girl of seven years was allowed to 
preach until she was so exhausted that she could not utter 
another word. 

Notwithstanding these fearful extravagances, some good 
was mixed with the evil, and by careful nursing developed 
righteousness in after years. The great revival ended in an 


182 REVIVALS 


excess of camp meetings in 1815. Contemporaneous with 
this movement in Kentucky, there were revivals in New Eng- 
land which affected some of the more important colleges, and, 
being less tumultuous, accomplished much good.’ 

The revival of 1832, as it is called, began several years 
earlier and continued several years later. So far as definite 
leaders can be named, Rev. Asahel Nettleton was the preacher 
leader in New England, and Rev. C. G. Finney in New York. 
Nettleton preached the strictest Calvinism with hell and 
damnation unadulterated. With this, however, he dis- 
couraged outbursts of emotion and physical manifestations, 
advising the people to go quietly to their homes apart from 
the crowd, and there to meditate. His work was deep, but 
not boisterous. Mr. Finney’s was a remarkable personality, 
with some strange influence, almost hypnotic, which all who 
came in contact with him noticed. This was even more 
marked in him than in Wesley. He inclined toward free will 
in his preaching, encouraged physical manifestations, and 
saw people weep, cry, and fall senseless. In his later years, 
he eschewed trying to scare people, and with him the appeal 
to crude and instinctive fear terminated. Finney’s work con- 
tinued, with the interruptions necessary on account of his 
duties as president of Oberlin, until 1860. Many were 
brought into better lives by the work of these men and their 
helpers.” 

We will not pause to notice the Miller Mania of 1840-1844, 


1 See further F. M. Davenport, Primitive Traits in Religious Revivals; 
W. A. Chandler, Great Revivals and the Great Republic; J. Moses, 
Pathological Aspects of Religions; B. Sidis, The Psychology of Sugges- 
tion; D. W. Yandell, ‘‘Epidemic Convulsions,” Brain, IV, pp. 339-350; 
E. B. Sherman, “A Voice from the Past,’ Outlook, March 21, 1908. 

? See further F. M. Davenport, Primitive Traits in Religious Revivals; 
W. A. Chandler, Great Revivals and the Great Republic; Memoirs of 
Charles G. Finney written by himself; C. Cotton, History and Character 
of American Revivals of Religion. 


REVIVALS 183 


but pass on to the revival of 1857. Ata time of great financial 
depression, a noon-day prayer-meeting for business men was 
started in Brooklyn, and from this sprang the great revival 
which became national in extent. Prayer-meetings were held 
in all the large cities. In fact, it was a revival characterized by 
prayer rather than by preaching. It was born of the need 
which men felt for something greater than their own ability, 
hence there was no great preacher who might be styled the 
leader. This was rather a layman’s movement. On account 
of its deep, helpful character no physical manifestations were 
evident. It is estimated that nearly one million persons were 
converted at this time. The contemporaneous revivals in 
Ireland and Wales were not so free from excesses. The 
revival, especially in Ireland, was spoken of as a disease. 
People were prostrated, shrieked or cried, or were afflicted 
with dumbness, blindness, stigmata, catalepsy, or sleeping 
sickness. Preachers seemed powerless to prevent the mani- 
festations. In Wales 30,000 are said to have been converted, 
and in Ireland many more.’ 

The revival of 1875 was led by the great apostle of common 
sense, D. L. Moody. In company with Mr. Sankey, he went 
to England in 1873, and there achieved his initial success. 
Returning to America, he visited Brooklyn, Philadelphia, 
New York, and Chicago, and had a large number of converts 
resultant from his work; for the remainder of his life he de- 
voted his time to revival work and Christian education. His 
meetings were not characterized by physical manifestations. 
Each of the three factors so prominent in early revivals in 
producing these effects was now absent. The man, the / 
message, and the masses had changed. I first heard Moody 
in 1895, but heard him often afterward, and his method was 


1 See further F. M. Davenport, Primitive Traits in Religious Revivals, 
W. A. Chandler, Great Revivals and the Great Republic; B. Sidis, The 
Psychology of Suggestion. 


184 REVIVALS 


never objectionable—of course that was late in his life; the 
message was not “‘the wrath of God,’’ but “the love of God” 
—there were no longer terrifying appeals to fear to create 
nervous disorders. The people, moreover, had developed in 
intelligence so as to be less easily carried away by excitement. 
It was a great surprise to many that Mr. Moody should devote 
the latter part of his life almost entirely to educational work, 
but his course has been justified. His great revival meetings 
no doubt accomplished much, but his chief and lasting work 
was done at his summer assemblies and at the institutions at 
Northfield, Mt. Hermon, and Chicago. His great power of 
organization and his rugged common sense, displayed in his 
evangelistic work, were brought out even more clearly in his 
labors for Christian education. In Finney we see the transi- 

__ tion from the “old-fashioned” revival to the new, and in 

vad Moody we see the only great revival leader under the new 
regime." 

The Welsh revival of 1905 is so recent as to be familiar to 
all. Evan Roberts has been called the leader, so far as there 
was one. Similar to the 1857 revival, it was a lay movement, 
and, like the 1875 revival, the love rather than the wrath of 
God was preached. Intense excitement prevailed at times, 
but this fortunately found vent in the singing, which was a 
feature of the revival. In the rural and primitive commu- 
nities of Wales one would expect some physical manifesta- 
tions; but, thanks to the singing, these were largely absent, 
being confined to sobbing, disorderly meetings, and “holy 
laughter.”” Over 100,000 are said to have been converted. 
Notwithstanding the prognostications of the leader, and the 
attempts of men, especially in America, this did not become 
a world-wide movement. Some statistics concerning the 


1See further W. R. Moody, The Life of Dwight L. Moody; F. M. 
Davenport, Primitive Tratis in Religious Revivals; W. A. Chandler, 
Great Revivals and the Great Republic. 


REVIVALS 185 


permanency of this revival are now available.’ During the 
revival, the Baptists of Wales received the largest propor- 
tionate increase, between 30,000 and 40,000. Their diary for 
1908, containing the statistics for 1907, shows that there has 
been a total decrease in the membership for the year of 5,271. 
During the years before the revival the returns used to show 
an annual increase of between 2,000 and 3,000; the reaction 
is, therefore, responsible for a difference of about 8,000 in this 
one year—nearly, if not quite, one-quarter of the amount of 
the total accessions during the revival. Some districts find 
the present permanent residuum to be not more than twenty 
per cent., while in other districts the deflections are not over 
that amount. Of course it is still too soon to form a judicial 
estimate of the effects of the revival. 

While physical manifestations are fortunately a thing of 
the past in the more civilized countries, or, better, among the 
more intelligent peoples, we must expect a continuance 
among the more primitive ones, as with our negroes, and the 
inhabitants of Eastern lands. Let me quote from an ac- 
count of a revival in Nellore, India, in July, 1906. ‘There 
were people . . . on the floor fairly writhing over the 
realization of sin as it came over them. . . . Saturday we 
were favoured with a wonderful manifestation of the spirit [ ?]. 
One of the older girls, who had had a remarkable experience, 
went into a trance with her head thrown back, her arms 
folded, and motionless, except for a slight movement of her 
foot. She seemed to be seeing something wonderful, for she 
would marvel at it and then laugh excitedly. . . . One girl 
rushed to the back of the vestibule and, lying across a bench, 
with her head and hands against the wall, she fairly writhed 
in agony for about two hours before peace came to her.” ? 

1T. M. Price, “Results of the Revival in Wales,” Standard, 1908. 


2 The Examiner, Sept. 6, 1906; see also The Maritime Baptist, Nov. 
12 and 19, Dec. 21, 1906. 


186 REVIVALS 


Reports from different parts of India in the summer and fall 
of 1906 show that this revival rivals that of 1800 in physical 
manifestations. 

An epitome of revival phenomena has been presented in 
order that we may have material from which to make some 
observations. In the first place, the periodic character of 
the occurrences is noticeable. This was seen also in the 
treatment of epidemics. The revivals come more frequently 
than the epidemics, and last a shorter time, as the following 
table clearly shows.’ 


REVIVALS 
The Great asc Z ; - 1734-1750 
Wesley 1s ee ere 
Kentucky . : : . 19790-1815 
Nettleton and Fi inney_ : : . 1828-1840 
Miller ; . 1840-1844 
American, Irish, and Welsh : . 1857-1859 
Moody ; : : ; . 1873-1880 
Welsh : ; : ‘ : . 1905-1906 


This periodicity is characteristic of all national movements, 
and between the revivals come seasons of great religious de- 
clension. This is true of the individual as well as of the 
race. 

We must also notice what have been called ‘“‘fashions”’ ? in 
physical manifestations; Wesley’s converts fell as though 
thunderstruck, the Kentucky converts had the “jerks.” 
Over-wrought emotion may take different forms with differ- 
ent people according to the temperament and habits, but 
when one person in a meeting has been affected in a par- 
ticular manner the power of suggestion and imitation over- 
comes the tendencies of the different temperaments, and a 
common affection is the result. We have in this another 


+See also Table, p. 16r. 
*F. Granger, The Soul of a Christian, p. 106; see also pp. 76 and 102. 


REVIVALS 187 


example of what has been called, in a too loose use of the 
word, I believe, ‘“‘crowd hypnotism.’”’: At any rate the con- 
tagious quality of the manifestations cannot be doubted. 
The revival is characterized by conditions most favorable 
to this state, e. g., monotony, fixed attention, control gained 
by singing manceuvres, limitation of voluntary movements, 
the excitation and depression of fear, intense emotion, eager 
expectation, and the suggestions given by both speaker and 
audience.» Of course, we recognize the additional intensity 
of such a condition on account of the presence of the crowd 
surrounding one. We have also seen that the more primitive 
the people the more easily it is moved. All crowds tend to 
return to primitive conditions under favorable circum- 
stances, and children more readily than their elders. In 
every crowd there are always a few susceptible ones, and 
these furnish fire for the explosion, for even a slight rise in 
the general feeling of a crowd affects each individual by a 
loss of inhibition, where the same rise in feeling in a solitary 
person would be impotent. At such times every member of 
the crowd is especially susceptible. The revivalist, although 
not a trained psychologist, and perhaps even ignorant of his 
modus operandi, is a past master of ‘crowd hypnotism.” 
His methods are cleverly calculated to put the mind into an 
abnormal condition and then seize it when it is most sus- 
ceptible. To this end “pride” is decried and ‘‘self-sur- 
render” is exalted. It is said that one of the lesser revivalists, 
after inviting sinners to the penitent bench, and before any 
had started, would exclaim, ‘“‘See them coming! See them 
coming!’’ and the effort was frequently successful.” The 
suggestion is often made at the beginning of the service thus, 
‘A number have come forward at every meeting,” or ‘“‘Some- 


1F. M. Davenport, Primitive Traits in Religious Revivals, pp. 216- 
251. 
7G. A. Coe, The Spiritual Life, p. 145. 


188 REVIVALS 


one is going to be converted to-night.” In Starbuck’s ex- 
amination, Fear, Example, Imitation, and Social Pressure 
were the motives in no less than 46 per cent. of revival con- 
versions.’ 

Revivals have always been characterized by intense emo- 
tion. This has been at the same time the source of their 
strength and of their weakness, of their success and of their 
danger. ‘Thousands have been swept through a revival by 
the torrent of emotion, some to moral transformation and 
useful lives, others to moral degradation and loss of all 
respect for religious things. When the sensibilities alone are 
affected, and the intellect and will are neglected, the result is 
inevitably disappointing. ‘This emotional method has de- 
veloped a special, explosive type of conversion, and its apolo- 
gists have frequently assumed that this is the only type. The 
danger from this is twofold: those who have gone through 
such an experience are liable to look upon it as a miraculous 
rather than a natural process,” and they, and others as well, 
are prone to believe that this is the only method by which a 
person can be saved. When there is laid down one method 
which all must follow, and that an emotional and explosive 
one, those who are temperamentally constituted so as to be 
unable to experience these sudden changes and overpowering 
emotions are hopeless of knowing God or of obtaining salva- 
tion. They are taught to seek something which they can 
never find, and either despair or revolt is the result: they 
either give up trying, or consider religion all humbug. This 
grave mistake on the part of many revivalists has done in- 
calculable harm. Feeling, or any other subjective test, can- 
not be the only one—‘‘by their fruits ye shall know them, not 
by their roots.” 


'E. D. Starbuck, Psychology of Religion, pp. 50 ff. 
?'W. James, The Varieties of Religious Experience, p. 228. 
®G. A. Coe, The Spiritual Life, pp. 147-150. 


REVIVALS 189 


Closely connected with this is the danger that persons will 
obtain an erroneous idea of Christianity. It not infrequently 
occurs that mere emotional excitement which accompanies a 
revival is mistaken for the transforming power of the Spirit 
of God,’ or what is the product of simple suggestion is in- 
correctly attributed to the presence of God, or to a change of 
character. The confusion has not only been noticed by the 
psychologist, but the contradictions on the part of revivalists 
themselves are evidence that the source of certain phenomena 
is not clear. By some the emotional concomitants have been 
attributed to God and by others to the devil. It is not strange 
that persons who have been induced to “go forward,” but who 
were not fitted to do so, should indulge in scoffing the next 
day and claim that the gospel was inefficacious. If salvation 
consists simply in the emotional surging of the over-wrought 
mind, the scoffer is correct; but it does not. It is therefore 
very essential that excitement or suggestion should not be 
confused with spirituality. It is a matter beyond dispute 
that revivalists are allowed to perpetrate certain mutilations 
upon souls which they claim are immortal, while the health 
authorities would not allow similar mutilations upon bodies 
which are admitted to be mortal. One of the greatest mis- 
takes, and one which has caused much suffering to the little 
ones, is the classification of the most hardened criminal and 
the most innocent child together as both equally sinful and 
both needing to pass through the most torturing remorse for sin. 

A matter of not a little concern to those who are striving 
hard against the Zeitgeist to continue revivals is the compara- 
tively low standard of character of the men who go from 
place to place “getting up” revivals. This statement does 
not apply to all, far from it; there are some notable excep- 
tions. The predominance of the commercial spirit in their 
method, where the “‘free-will offering” is so adroitly and in- 

1J. H. McDonald, The Revival, a Symposium, p. 55 }. 


190 REVIVALS 


tensely emphasized, the apparent monopoly of ignorance of 
exegesis and interpretation, concomitant vaudeville actions, 
and other features antithetic to the dignity of the gospel of 
Jesus Christ and to the spirit of the Master, cause the pastor 
who has the good of his church at heart to scrutinize the 
revivalist very carefully, respecting both character and 
methods, before he trusts his people to the influence of a 
power which is as puissant for evil as for good. As an illustra- 
tion of these things, allow me to quote an account of a revival 
held in Bloomington, Illinois, in this year of our Lord, 1908. 

A local paper heads its columns in great letters: ‘5,843 


Converts,” “683 In A Day”—‘“Totat Girt To MR. Sun- 
DAY, $10,431.’ —‘‘ GREATEST REVIVAL IN History” —‘‘ WILL 
ATTRACT ATTENTION OF RELIGIOUS WORLD”—‘‘ SERMON 


ON ‘BoozE’ THE GREAT EFFORT OF THE REVIVAL.” Six 
columns of space are used to present an account of the meet- 
ings, evidently in consideration of the deep interest of the 
readers. The sermon on ‘Booze” and an account of 
the physical exertions of the preacher are given in detail. The 
following is a fragment of the report: ‘‘He began with his 
coat, vest, tie, and collar off. In afew moments his shirt and 
undershirt were gaping open to the waist and the muscles of 
his neck and chest were seen working like those in the arm 
of a blacksmith, while perspiration poured from every pore. 
His clothing was soaked as if a hose had been turned on him. 

‘He strained, and twisted, and reached up and down. 
Once he was on the floor for just a second, in the attitude of 
crawling, to show that all crime crawled out of the saloon; 
then he was on his feet as quickly as a cat could jump. At 
the end of forty-five minutes he mounted a chair, reached 
high, as he shouted, then again was on the floor and dropped 
prostrate to illustrate a story of a drunken man, bounded to 
his feet again as if steel springs filled that lithe, slender, 
lightning-like body. 


REVIVALS IgI 


“He generally breaks a common kitchen chair in this 
sermon, and this came after a terrible effort, with eyes flash- 
ing, face scowling, the picture of hate. He whirled the chair 
over his head, smashed the chair to the platform floor, whirled 
the shattered wreck in the air again, then threw it to the 
ground in front of the pulpit. 

“In two minutes men from the front row were tearing the 
wreck to pieces and dividing it up, a round here, a leg there, 
a piece of the back to another, and soon. Later men carried 
away in cheering could be seen in the audience waving those 
chair fragments in the air.”” Power there was there, but how 
was it used ? 

Here we have touched the key-note; the revival is a power.’ 
The question of moment is, how shall this power be turned, 
and can it be guided safely? All powers are capable of 
reverse action: water, fire, steam, electricity, are wonderful 
aids to mankind if regulated, but if they get beyond control, 
how great is the destruction! A child can start a fire, it is 
not so easily stopped. A revival is such a power that when 
once started it may sweep a community. It may arouse the 
passions and degrade religion to the frenzies of savages or 
beasts, or it may permeate the minds of men and cause a 
growth to the full stature of the true man. 

What can the psychologist prognosticate regarding the 
future of revivals?” Prognosticate he may, for revivals are 
not only dependent upon God but upon men—both factors 
must be taken into account. First, we may say definitely 
that the ‘‘old-fashioned’” revival is an impossibility in the 
more civilized and educated countries. By ‘‘old-fashioned”’ 
we mean, of course, those of 1740 and 1800; Finney and 
Nettleton were the transition revivalists. It does not seem 


1J. B. Pratt, The Psychology of Religious Belie}, p. 221. 
7G. A. Coe, The Religion of a Mature Mind, pp. 262-282; F. M. 
Davenport, Primitive Traits in Religious Revivals, pp. 211-215. 


192 REVIVALS 


likely that a great revival even of the modern type, 7. ¢., that 
of Moody, is a possibility. The attempt to upline the 
Welsh revival in England and America was a signal failure. 
Notice also the silent testimony of Mr. Moody that some- 
thing deeper than the public meeting was necessary; his 
educational institutions were the offspring of keen insight. 
The revival looks into the future and says, ‘‘I must decrease, 
but He must increase.”’ It will not, it cannot, stand in the 
way of the coming of the Kingdom. It takes its place with 
the Old Testament, with the Jews, with John the Baptist. 
It has done its work and fulfilled its mission, a work and a 
mission not without value, and its very success is wii in 
the fact that it has outgrown its usefulness. 

Notwithstanding all that has been said regarding extrava- 
gances, good has been accomplished by the revival. Why 
not, then, continue it? We cannot do it any more than we 
can use yesterday’s sunshine for the growth of to-day. The 
revivalists recognize the decline of the revival, and a great 
variety of reasons are given for it. Listen to some of them: 
material prosperity; growth of science and the passing of 
blind faith; the teaching of the theological seminaries; the 
effect of higher criticism; the evolutionary theory of sin; and 
the widening of the range of human motives. There is prob- 
ably some truth in all of them, but the comprehensive reason 
is that people have changed, they have grown. Through the 
influence of education, business, civilization, and the revival 
itself they have gained self-control, increased in intelligence, 
and acquired a rational inhibition. ‘These make men less 
unstable, less suggestible, and less influenced by revival 
methods. Life requires a conformity to environment; if the 
revival is to live it must change to fit the times. When we 
say, then, that revivals are unlikely for the future, we do not 
mean that there will be no great religious movements, for 
these are continually going on; nor do we say that there will 


REVIVALS 193 


be no more mass meetings for religious purposes; but we do 
say that the movements will have to change their methods 
and the mass meetings will have to be permeated with intel- 
lectual activity as well as emotion. This prognostication 
does not apply to primitive people like the aborigines or 
negroes of this continent, nor does it apply to the Eastern 
nations, where great revivals will probably continue until 
they have reached our standard of civilization and intelligence. 

One of the principal reasons why there will probably be no 
more great revivals, and one of the chief reasons why revivals 
have declined, is that since the last great revival we have 
made a marvellous discovery. We have discovered the child. 
I do not mean that the child was not known to some extent 
before 1873, for Horace Bushnell wrote his Christian Nur- 
ture in 1847; but the fact should be noted that the sciences 
of paidology and pedagogy have arisen during the last quarter 
of a century. We are revising our ideas as we read God’s 
thoughts after Him. We see the great religious and spiritual 
waste resulting from our past action in allowing persons to 
grow up in sin, teaching them that they were the blackest 
sinners, and then trying to convert them. They tried to live 
up to our estimate of them, as all people do. Now we try to 


ix 


educate the child so that he may, naturally and appropriately, ./ 


take his place in the Kingdom, and never suggest to him that 
his place is anywhere else. Instead of teaching him that he 
is expected to sow ‘‘wild oats,” we look to him to sow the 
seed of the Kingdom. ‘The educational methods of the last 
few years, which we have found so efficacious in business and 
in secular education, we are now using for the training of the 
child in righteousness. ‘This has been no small gain, and we 
rejoice that instead of the camp-meeting we find the Chau- 
tauqua, and in place of the terrifying message of condemna- 


tion and repulsion, we have the comforting and profitable , 


gospel of Divine childhood. If we were asked to designate 


194 REVIVALS 


the present great religious movement—or call it the present 
revival, if you will—we should point to the continuous nur- 
ture of the Divine life from the cradle to the grave. This is 
a revival which has come to stay. 

I must close this chapter as I began it, with an appreciation 
of the revival. No one can possibly take an unbiassed view’ 
and fail to be impressed with the wonderful amount of good 
which has been accomplished by revivals, as no one can: 
become familiar with them and fail to recognize the harm 
they have done. It takes two or three years for churches to 
get rid of the unsanctified riff-raff which is swept in on the 
tide of a revival, and which brings discredit to the name of the 
church and to the gospel; yet there are usually a few who 
remain steadfast, and some men who have been most valua- 
ble in after years have come in through revival influence. It 
is well known that revivals are a productive, exciting cause of 
nervous disorders and insanity; yet, on the other hand, we 
know that many a man who for years has been beside him- 
self is now “clothed and in his right mind” on account of the 
beneficent effects of a revival. This is especially true of the 
more ignorant and unstable. The drunkard, for example, 
if reformed by religious influences, usually begins his religious 
life in a revival. Further, we are bound to admit that even 
when the conversion is accompanied by abnormal phenom- 
ena, it sometimes works for lasting good; this effect is not on 
account of such phenomena, but notwithstanding them. We 
recognize that the revival movement ‘‘has contributed little or 
nothing to theology, nothing to the science of ethics, and has 
stood aloof from and discouraged science, poetry, philosophy, 
and the fine arts,”” but notwithstanding the persons who have 
been hardened against, suspicious of, and incorrectly impressed 
concerning religion on account of revivals, we must still 


1B. Sidis, The Psychology of Suggestion, pp. 360 }. 
*F. Granger, The Soul of a Christian, p. 253. 


REVIVALS 195 


realize that revivals have emphasized and attracted attention 
to religion during times of great moral and spiritual depres- 
sion, quickened altruistic impulses, destroyed the canker of 
formalism, and by turning the search-light inward caused 
individual morality to be more indissolubly connected with 
the religious life. The emotionalism of revivals has led to 
many sad extravagances, but, on the other hand, as Newman 
has so well said, ‘‘ Calculation never made a hero.” 

To conclude, then, the value of the revival cannot be deter- 
mined by asking the question, Do revivals do any good? 
We must ask, is the maximum of good accomplished with the 
concomitant minimum of evil? Suppose in some revival 
services 300 are reported converted, too join the church, and 
in one year’s time 50 are faithful (a large percentage). We 
must all rejoice concerning the 50, but what are we to say 
about the remaining 250 who are spiritually mutilated, 
mangled, and incapacitated ? 

I have not said anything in this chapter on the divine power 
in revivals, because we have been discussing some phenomena 
which have had little divine influence in them. However, 
it is not on account of unbelief in God’s influence upon 
men’s lives, but because this properly belongs and will be 
considered in the chapter on Conversion, 


CHAPTER XV 
FAITH CURE 


“Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, 
Which we ascribe to heaven.’”—SHAKESPEARE. 


In all ages wonderful cures have been wrought by means 
of the belief on the part of the diseased in the healing power 
of certain objects or persons. In fact, primitive therapeutics 
consisted in little else. ‘Talismans, amulets, and charms 
have been the occasions of many miracles of healing of which 
the belief by the patient has been the true medicine. In 
early times the cure was usually associated with and credited 
to religious influence of some kind. To effect a cure among 
some people the image of a certain demon was applied to the 
part of the body supposed to be suffering from the malign 
influence of that demon; or else the image might be used as 
a preventive, protecting the possessor from the evil eye, which 
all ancient people believed to be peculiarly sinister. Among 
savages, as well as in early civilization, the magician was also 
physician and priest, and the practice of magic was primarily 
religious. In magic aimed to cure disease there were many 
rites and ceremonies to be performed, all thought to be of a 
religious nature, and at the same time there were formule for 
exorcising the demon of disease, which priest as well as lay- 
man believed to be essential to the cure. 

Even for centuries after men wrote history this form of 
therapeutics was regarded as the principal means of healing. 
As far as we are able to trace the subject into the remote past, 
the healing touch was used by the old Egyptians and other 


Orientals. The Ebers papyrus represents that an important 
196 


FAITH CURE 197 


part of the treatment of the patient prior to 1552 B.c. con- 
sisted in the laying on of hands, combined with an extensive 
formulary and many ceremonial rites... The early Hebrews, 
who derived their medical knowledge from Egypt, considered 
disease a punishment for sin, and the Levites were the sole 
practitioners. After the return from the Babylonian deporta- 
tion there arose a class of temple physicians and special 
surgeons, all, however, as with other nations, connected with 
religious rites. The Vedas, the sacred books of India, reveal 
demonology, in that country, as a great influence in the prac-’ 
tice, and a large part of the belief among physicians, from 
whom decorum and piety were required. 

The excavations of Cavvadias at Epidaurus have furnished 
us with much interesting material concerning the cures per- 
formed at this ancient Greek shrine five hundred years before 
the beginning of the Christian era. If the modern physician 
still recognizes A‘sculapius as his patron saint, he must have 
great respect for faith cure. It appears certain from in- 
scriptions found upon “‘stele” that were dug up at Epidaurus 
and published in 1891, that the system of A‘sculapius was 
based upon the miracle workings of a demi-god, and not upon 
the medical art as we now know it. The modus operandi was 
unique in some details. The patients, mostly incurables, 
came laden with sacrifices. They first cleansed themselves 
with water from the holy well, and, after certain ceremonial 
acts had been performed by the priests, fell into a deep sleep. 
The son of Apollo then appeared to them in dreams, attended 
to the particular ailment of the sufferer, and specified sacri- 
fices or acts which would restore health. In most cases the 
sick awoke suddenly cured. Large sums of money were 
asked for these cures; from one inscription we learn that a 
sum corresponding to $12,000 was paid asa fee. It was not 
until five centuries later, when credulity concerning miracles 

1A. Moll, Hypnotism, p. 4. 


198 FAITH CURE 


was on the wane, that the priests began to study and to apply 
medical means in order to sustain the reputation of the place 
and to keep up its enormous revenues.* The temple sleep 
used at Epidaurus, and in common use among the old Greeks 
and Egyptians, corresponded to the artificial sleep now called 
hypnotism, and was a means of facilitating the effects of 
suggestion. - 

From this time to the Middle Ages, while some progress was 
made in the study of anatomy and diagnosis, there was little 
advance in therapeutics. The reason for this will be appa- 
rent when we remember that whatever the disease might be, 
its cure was largely a prerogative of religion, and any other 
system of therapeutics would have been sacrilege. Being 
thus in the thraldom of religious superstition and misappre- 
hension, the science of healing, which from the nature of the 
case must be one of the oldest studies of mankind, was the 
most backward, and only the work of the last three centuries 
has raised it to the level of a true science. Dr. Munger makes 
the following comparisons: ‘‘ Aristotle mapped out philosophy 
and morals in lines the world yet accepts in the main, but he 
did not know the difference between the nerves and the 
tendons. Rome had a sound system of jurisprudence before 
it had a physician, using only priestcraft for healing. Cicero 
was the greatest lawyer the world has seen, but there was not 
a man in Rome who could have cured him of a colic. The 
Greek was an expert dialectician when he was using incanta- 
tions for his diseases. As late as when the Puritans were 
enunciating their lofty principles, it was generally held that 
the king’s touch would cure scrofula. Governor Winthrop, 
of colonial days, treated ‘small-pox and all fevers’ by a pow- 
der made from ‘live toads baked in an earthen pot in the 
open air.’” ? 


*L. Waldstein, The Subconscious Selj, p. 164 f. 
*T. Munger, On the Threshold, p. 126 f. 


FAITH CURE 199 


While there was probably some advance when the saints of 
the Church usurped the place of the zodiacal constellations 
in their government of the various parts of the human body, 
the saints and relics have proved themselves the greatest 
enemies to the advance of the science of therapeutics. As 
early as the latter part of the fourth century ‘‘ miraculous 
powers were ascribed to these images [of Jesus and the saints 
hung in the churches] and legends of marvellous cures and 
wonderful portents were related of them. . . . Their [the 
saints] intercessions were invoked, especially for the cure of 
diseases, and if, perchance, help seemed to come to any one, 
he hung up in the church a gold or silver image of the part 
which had been healed... . Their relics began to work 
miracles.’’? 

But the Middle Ages were the golden days of superstition— 
golden at least for the papacy. Nothing seemed to be too 
extravagant to be believed; in fact, the more unreasonable 
the statements the quicker they seemed to be imbibed by the 
credulous people. ‘‘ Fragments, purporting to have been cut 
from it [the ‘true cross’], were, in the eleventh and twelfth 
centuries, to be found in almost every church in Europe, and 
would, if collected together in one place, have been almost 
sufficient to have built a cathedral. . . . They were thought 
to preserve from all evils, and to cure the most inveterate dis- 
eases. . . . Next in renown were those precious relics, the 
tears of the Saviour. By whom and in what manner they 
were preserved, the pilgrims did not enquire. . . . Tears of 
the Virgin Mary, and tears of St. Peter, were also to be had, 
carefully enclosed in little caskets, which the pious might 
wear in their bosoms. After the tears the next most precious 
relics were drops of the blood of Jesus and the martyrs, and the 
milk of the Virgin Mary. MHair and toe-nails were also in 
great repute, and were sold at extravagant prices. .. . Many 

1G. P. Fisher, History of the Christian Church, p. 117. 


200 FAITH CURE 


a nail, cut from the filthy foot of some unscrupulous ecclesi- 
astic, was sold at a diamond’s price, within six months after 
its severance from its parent toe, upon the supposition that 
it had once belonged to a saint oran apostle. Peter’s toes were 
uncommonly prolific, for there were nails enough in Europe, 
at the time of the Council of Clermont, to have filled a sack, 
all of which were devoutly believed to have grown on the 
sacred feet of that great apostle. Some of them are still 
shown in the cathedral of Aix-la-Chapelle.” * 

‘“‘A lucrative trade was carried on in iron filings from the 
chains with which it was claimed that Peter and Paul 
had been bound. ‘These filings were regarded by Pope 
Gregory I as efficacious in healing as were the bones of the 
martyrs.’’? 

The absurdity of the claims of some of these remedies 
seems not to have appealed to the people. ‘Elias Ashmole 
in his diary for 1681 has entered the following: ‘I tooke 
this morning a good dose of elixir, and hung three spiders 
about my neck, and they drove my ague away. Deo 
gratias.’ ... We have even a striking instance of the 
benefit derived from an amulet bya horse, who could not be 
suspected of having helped forward the cure by the strength 
of his faith in it. ‘The root of cut Malowe hanged about 
the neck driveth away blemishes of the eyen, whether it be 
in a man or a horse, as I, Jerome of Brunsweig, have seene 
myselfe. I have myselfe done it to a blind horse that I 
bought for X crounes, and was sold agayn for XL crounes’ 
—a trick distinctly worth knowing.’’® 

Not only did the Church assume the prerogative of healing, 
but it would brook no interference from external sources. 
All diseases contracted by Christians were ascribed to demons, 

1C, Mackay, Extraordinary Popular Delusions, II, p. 303 }. 


3 J. Moses, Pathological Aspects of Religions, pp. 132 ff. 
*E. A. King, “‘Medizval Medicine,” Nineteenth Century, July, 1893. 


FAITH CURE 201 


and all recourse to physicians or surgeons was discouraged 
or forbidden. Surgery also suffered on account of the feeling 
against dissections, but not to the same extent as therapeutics. 
Monks who took medicine were guilty of irreligious conduct, 
and no physician was allowed to treat a patient without re- 
ceiving ecclesiastical advice; the penalty for a breach of the 
latter rule was exclusion from the church. “ Pilgrimages 
and visits to holy shrines have usurped the place of medicine. 
. . . ot. Dominic, St. Bellinus, and St. Vitus have been greatly 
renowned in the cure of diseases in general.”* ‘To combat 
the rising science of medicine the Church itself developed a 
ludicrous system of therapeutics. In addition to this, the 
body was supposed to be made undesirable for a habitation 
for the demon of disease by administering torture and all 
manner of vile and disgusting doses.’ 

‘Even such serious matters as fractures, calculi, and diffi- 
cult parturition, in which modern science has achieved some 
of its greatest triumphs, were then dealt with by relics; and 
to this hour the exvotos hanging at such shrines as those of 
St. Geneviéve at Paris, of St. Antony at Padua, of the Druid 
image at Chartres, of the Virgin at Einsiedeln and Lourdes, 
of the fountain at La Salette, are survivals of this same con- 
ception of disease and its cure. So, too, with a multitude of 
sacred pools, streams, and spots of earth.” ° 

About the time that therapeutics as a science began to 
shake off the shackles of religion and superstition, we notice a 
yet more startling innovation, viz., the division of faith cure 
into religious and mental healing. The change undoubtedly 
came gradually, probably stimulated by the Zeitgeist, of 


1T. J. Pettigrew, Superstitions Connected with the History and Prac- 
tice of Medicine and Surgery, p. 35. 

7A. D. White, History of the Warfare of Science with Theology, Il, 

Hs icie! 

3A. D. White, zbid., II, p. 42. 


202 FAITH CURE 


which the increased employment of drugs was another indica- 
tion. The new theory may have been assisted by a different 
opinion regarding the king, which ardse about this time. 
The office of king was formerly considered quasi religious, 
but was more and more outgrowing any idea of divine signifi- 
cance. Touching by the sovereign for the amelioration of 
king’s evil, did, no doubt, effect many cures. The routes to 
be travelled by royal personages were usually announced be- 
forehand, and the sufferers along the way had many days in 
which to cherish the expectation of healing, in itself so bene- 
ficial. Those were days of faith, and the belief in the divine 
right of kings was generally accepted. On this account the 
touch of the royal hand would have a salutary reaction, and 
occasion many restorations. 

King Pyrrhus and the Emperor Vespasian are said to have 
effected cures. Francis I, of France, and other kings up to 
Charles X, healed by the imposition of hands. Readers of 
Macaulay’s History* will remember that when William III 
refused, with honest good sense, to exercise the power which 
most of his subjects undoubtedly thought he possessed, many 
protests were made, and much proof was adduced concerning 
the ‘‘balsamic virtues of the royal hand.” Eminent theolo- 
gians expressed their confidence in its efficacy, and the 
most learned surgeons of the day certified to the rapidity 
and prevalence of the cures. Charles II in the course of 
his- reign touched nearly one hundred thousand persons; 

And James in one of his progresses touched eight hun- 
/ dred persons in Chester Cathedral.? The refusal of Wil- 
liam to continue the practice of touching brought upon him 
the charge of cruelty from the parents of scrofulous children, 


‘T. B. Macaulay, History of England, III, pp. 378-381. 

?W. B. Carpenter, Mental Physiology, p. 686. W. E. H. Lecky, 
History of European Morals, I, pp. 363 ff.; A. D. White, History of the 
Warfare of Science with Theology, II, pp. 46-49. 


Pes 


FAITH CURE 203 


while bigots lifted up their hands and eyes in holy horror at 
his impiety. 

Within the last half century we have had an example of 
the value of a royal touch. When cholera was raging in 
Naples in 1865, and the people were rushing from the city by 
thousands, King Victor Emanuel went the rounds of the 
hospital in an endeavor to stimulate courage in the hearts 
of his people. He lingered at the bedside of the patients and 
spoke encouraging words to them. On a cot lay one man 


“already marked for death. The king stepped to his side, 


and pressing his damp, icy hand, said, “Take courage, 
poor man, and try to recover soon.” ‘That evening the 
physicians reported to the king a diminution of the disease 
in the course of the day, and the man marked for death, 


_ out of danger. The king had unconsciously performed a 
~~ tniracle.? 


It may have been through the observation of these cures 
which the king worked, and the decreasing belief in any re- 
ligious efficacy in the royal hand, that there came the division 
between religious and mental healing, or we may have to credit 
it to the keen observation of certain scientific men of the times. 


Paracelsus, who lived during the first half of the sixteenth 


century, wrote these shrewd words, ‘Whether the object of 
your faith is real or false, you will nevertheless obtain the 
same effects. ‘Thus, if I believe in St. Peter’s statue as I 
would have believed in St. Peter himself, I shall obtain the 
same effects that I would have obtained from St. Peter; but 


- that is superstition. . Faith, however, produces miracles, and 
whether it be true or false faith, it will always produce the 


t 


same wonders.” We have also the following penetrating 


observation from Pierre Ponponazzi of Milan, an author of 


the same century. ‘‘We can easily conceive the marvellous 
effects which confidence and imagination can produce, par- 
1C. L. Tuckey, Treatment by Hypnotism and Suggestion, p. 30. 


204 FAITH CURE 


ticularly when both qualities are reciprocal between the 
subjects and the person who influences them. The cures 
attributed to the influence of certain relics are the effect of 
this imagination and confidence. Quacks and philosophers 
know that if the bones of any skeleton were put in the place 
of the saints’ bones, the sick would none the less experience 


ug beneficial effects, if they believed that they were near veritable 


' Yelics. 


Ne a! 


This prophecy has since proved true. ‘‘ When 
Prof. Buckland, the eminent osteologist and geologist, dis- 
covered that the relics of St. Rosalia at Palermo, which had 
for ages cured disease and warded off epidemics, were the 
bones of a goat, this fact caused not the slightest diminution 
in their miraculous power.” 

However mental healing, apart from religious influence, 


originated, it exists to-day, and is established firmly on 


scientific principles. But religious healing also survives and 
has many earnest devotees. As the latter has been employed 
for centuries and as we find it to-day, three different classes 
may be designated. ‘There are those who use the formula 
of James, anoint with oil and pray, lay on hands, or simply 
employ prayer. A second class have faith in a visit and 
sacrifice at different shrines. Others believe in certain per- 
sons as healers. Most followers of Jesus believe, to some 
extent, in the efficacy of prayer, but probably most of us expect 
the answer by indirect means and employ a physician. We 
are familiar with this class, so it is not necessary to dwell 
longer upon it. We should say, however, that the first class, 
healing by prayer, should alone be classed as divine healing. 
’ The other two classes are religious, trusting in saints and 
healers, but not directly in Deity. 

We have recorded many authentic cures, real amid a multi- 
tude of shams, which have been wrought at holy places 
dedicated to various saints of different cults. Throngs of 

‘H. Bernheim, Suggestive Therapeutics, p. 192 f. 


FAITH CURE 205 


pilgrims wend their way over the desert to Mecca, crowds 
may be seen journeying to the sacred rivers and temples of 
India or to the shrines of Buddhist hagiology, and not a few 
who have made the outward journey wearily and painfully, 
return with health restored. But these cures are not re- 
stricted to so-called heathen religions; the Christian faith has 
many shrines. One can scarcely enter a cathedral in Europe 
where some cure has not been performed, and in some, 
quantities of crutches have been left by the healed. The 
shrine of the Virgin in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre at 
Jerusalem groans with the gifts of grateful persons who have 
there been helped. The miracles performed at the tomb of 
the Deacon Paris in the Cemetery of St. Médard have already 
been referred to, and the cures of the sufferers who worship 
the Holy Coat at Treves are well known." 

The two shrines best known and which have proved most 
efficacious are those of Lourdes in France, and St. Anne de 
Beaupré in the province of Quebec. Lourdes owes its reputed 
healing power to a belief in a vision of the Virgin received 
there during the last century.” Over 300,000 persons visit 
there every year, and no small portion of them return with 
health restored as a reward for their faith. At Lourdes and 
many other shrines bathing forms a part of the ceremony, 
and on account of the unsanitary conditions in the former 
place, there is some danger that the French government will 
.. cause its abandonment. Charcot, who established the Sal- 
, pétritre hospital where hypnotism was so successfully used, 
\sent fifty or sixty patients to Lourdes yearly. _He was firmly 


rat convinced of the healing power of faith. In America, — 


IR. F, Clarke, The Holy Coat of Treves, “especially pp. 38-40, 98- 
ol. 

7A. T. Myers and F. W. H. Myers, “‘Mind Cure, Faith Cure, and the 
Miracles of Lourdes,” Proceedings of the Society for Psychical Research, ~ 
IX, pp. 160-409. J. B. Estrade, Les Apparitions de Lourdes: Sou- 
venirs intimes dun témoin. 


206 FAITH CURE 


thousands flock to the shrine of St. Anne de Beaupré every 
year. Here are to be found bones, supposed to be the wrist 
bones of the saint, and many sufferers are able to testify to 
their value in the healing of diseases. 

The third class of believers in religious healing put their 
faith in the power of certain men, who, they think, have this 
divine gift. All ages have witnessed cures performed through 
this agency, and each century has had its great apostle of 
healing. For example, in the seventeenth century Great- 
rakes, the noted Irish soldier and healer, who felt that he 
had been given divine healing power, had what seemed to be 
remarkable success in touching for scrofula, ague, and other 
diseases. An exhibition before the king, however, proved a 
failure. In the eighteenth century Gassner, a Romanist 
priest, thought that most diseases were attributable to evil 
spirits, whose power could only be destroyed by conjuration 
and prayer. He practised on his parishioners with some 
success, and many considered his cures miraculous. 

Gassner shared eighteenth-century honors with Frau 
Starke of Osterode, who performed many cures through 
stroking and touching the patients’ bodies, and by so-called 
charming. The greatest name in religious.healing in the 
_nineteenth century was that of Prince Hohenlohe, a Romanist | 
_priest.__He aroused much attention by his cures in Bavaria in 

1821. Among the names prominent in later years are those 
_»-af Dr. Vernon, Joh. Blumhardt, and the Zouave Jacob, not to 
“smention the numerous healers who, like Schlatter, Schréder, 

_ Newell, or Dowie, acquire meteoric fame, stir up a newspaper 
commotion and sink into oblivion. Not a few revivalists 
have incidentally become healers. We have already seen 
Wesley in the réle of an exorcist, Finney tells of healing an 
_ Insane woman at peas and George. Fox cured_a lame 
__arm by.command: % 

* Memoirs of Rev. Charles G. Finney written by himself, p. 108 }. 


~ 


FAITH CURE 207 


The divorce of mental from religious healing was a slow 
process. As already mentioned, Paracelsus taught that the 
faith of the patient, not the object, was the principal factor 
in healing. This is the recognized position of psychology 

to-day, but for three centuries a theory, now known to be 
Ree enia held the minds of the investigators. Von Helmont 
taught that men possessed a power over others, especially the 
sick, and in 1600 Maxwell proclaimed a similar theory. A 
century later, in 1700, Santanelli in Italy asserted a like propo- 
ae Mesmer, who more than any one else drew the 
world’s attention to mental healing, believed the same thing, 

i and posited a magnetic fluid which passed between the opera- 
“~.tor and the subject and accomplished the wonderful results. 
His great success so attracted the attention of thinking men 
that a committee was appointed to investigate the matter, of 


i ~whom our Benjamin Franklin was one. The committee 


‘did not report favorably, but the work continued. 
An English physician by the name of Braid was really the 
founder of hypnotism as a science. He investigated the sub- 
- ject in 1841, and to him we are indebted for the name hypno- 
tism. .While hypnotism and mesmerism are identical in 
meaning, the use of the terms usually implies a theory: 


Mesmerism, that propagated by Mesmer of an influence or . 
__ fluid passing from the operator to the subject; Hypnotism, 


that of modern psychologists that the power is not of one per- 
‘ son over another, but that of one’s mind over his own body. 
Hypnotism stands to-day as the most scientifically and 
thoroughly investigated phase of mental healing, and is much 
and favorably used in Europe, where men like Leibault, 
Bernheim, Tuckey, Wetterstrand, Moll, Forel, and others 
have used it with such wonderful success that it takes its 
proper place alongside of other methods of therapeutics, all 
physicians recognizing its value. Unfortunately for it as a 
1A. Moll, Hypnotism, p. 5. 


208 FAITH CURE 


science, and for us as sufferers, it has, in this country, paid 
the penalty of bad companionship. Here it is principally used 
by entertainers and charlatans, or brought into ill repute by 
teaching courses which are sold and bartered about the 
country, as a means of acquiring a few dollars. Both hyp- 
notic entertainments and teaching to irresponsible persons 
should be prohibited by law. It is no wonder that our people 
generally eschew it and brand it as a fraud! 

Having glanced at an epitome of the history of faith cure, 
we shall look now at the psychological theory underlying it. 
Every person who observes his experience will easily recognize 
two relationships. The first is the power and influence of 
the body over the mind; the second is the power and influence 
of the mind over the body—they are reciprocal in their action. 
Of the first, which is an important fact in our lives, we have 
nothing further to say here; the second, however, is the basis 
of faith-cure. We have all doubtless paid sufficient attention 
to our ordinary experience to call to mind many illustrations. 
For example, we know of the effects of emotion upon the 
body, especially in the redistribution of the blood supply, 
blushing, flushing, or blanching, as shame, joy, or fear takes 
possession of us; the shiver which runs down our backs as 
we think of the shrill shriek of rubbing metals; the yawn 
which is so contagious; or the feeling of nausea which ac- 
companies the perception of odors similar to those present 
when we were seasick. We hear what fear suggests or what 
is joyfully anticipated, we feel much that we expect to 
feel. ) 

We must further recognize that this power of the mind over 
the body may work in a twofold manner; the body may be 
injured by fear, anger, imagined disease, or thinking much 
about a slight ailment, but in dealing with faith-cure it is the 
opposite side with which we have to do, viz., the beneficial 
effects of mental states upon certain diseases. When we 


FAITH CURE 209 


consider that most diseases have a large mental factor, then 
it is natural to conclude that certain mental states should have 
a salutary influence. All functional diseases, diseases where 
the organ is uninjured, and where there is simply a derange- 
ment of function, are principally nervous in their character, 
and the proper mental influence will cure them. Such a 
disease as indigestion is a disorder of the functions of the 
digestive apparatus. Common mental states, as, e. g., worry, 
may produce this, while the opposite mental states, joy and 
happiness, tend to cure it. There is a real relation between 
laughing and growing fat; the man with indigestion is morose 
and cranky; it may be that the indigestion causes the mental 
state, but it is just as probable that the mental state causes the 
indigestion. | 

Pain is a mental state. The bruised finger or the aching 
tooth does not pain, the mind feels the pain which experience 
has taught it to localize in different parts of the body. Now, 
there is no difference between having pain and thinking we 
have it, or having no pain and thinking we have none. If we 
have pain and can think we have none, we get rid of it. Per- 
sistent pain, however, is difficult to think away. Or if we 
can set our minds upon something different with sufficient 
force, the pain is not felt. The mind can readily attend to 
only one thing at a time, and if filled with other matters the 
pain is excluded. The sufferer from neuralgia experiences 
no pain as he responds to the fire alarm, and the toothache 
stops entirely as we undergo the excitement and fear of enter- 
ing the dentist’s office. Some people are more suggestible 
than others, and suggestion, whether in normal or in abnormal 
states, is more effective with them. 

Suggestion works upon the subconsciousness. In normal 
states the suggestions must be made indirectly so as not to 
have the distraction of continued perception. Apparently 
that which slips by consciousness unnoticed is most effective 


210 FAITH CURE 


with the subconsciousness. ‘Trustful expectation in any one 
direction acts powerfully through the subconsciousness, be- 
cause it absorbs the whole mind, and thus competition is 
excluded. It is this which acts in faith-cure, although some 
abnormal conditions may also arise to assist the suggestion. 
Gurne question of whether or not there is ever divine power 
>+manifested in faith-cure, will be dealt with in our analysis of 
_prayer.’\, Suffice it to say here, that divine manifestation 
“would fot be inconsistent with what has been said concerning 
the subconsciousness. ‘The subconsciousness corresponds to 
that part of the mind which the old writers designated as the 
‘‘heart,’’ and is the religious clearing house. While we speak 
of the cures coming through the subconsciousness at all times, 
whether the power back of it is human or divine, is an entirely 
"separate question. You will recall a distinction already made; 
the cures brought about by shrines and healers are not classed 
under divine, but under religious healing; prayer alone is the 
_medium.of.divine healing. 
That this confident’ expectation of a cure is the most potent 
means of bringing it about, doing that which no medical 
~ treatment can accomplish, may be affirmed as the generalized 
result of experiences of the most varied kind, extending 
through a long series of ages. It is this factor which is com- 
mon to methods of the most diverse character. It is notice- 
able that any system of treatment, however absurd, that can 
be puffed into public notoriety for efficacy, any individual 
who by accident or design obtains a reputation for the pos- 
session of a special gift of healing, is certain to attract a 
multitude of sufferers among whom will be many who are 
capable of being really benefited by a strong assurance of 
or Thus, the practitioner with a great reputation has an 
~-advantage over his neighboring physicians, not only on 
“account of the superior skill which he may have acquired, but 


1See Divine Healing under the Lens, by ‘“‘A Berean.” 


FAITH CURE 211 


because his reputation causes this confident expectation, so 
beneficial in itself. 

We must include under this head the therapeutic value in 
patent medicines. Most patent medicines contain little else, 
in the nature of drugs of any power for good or evil, than 
alcohol, the percentage of the latter ranging from ten to fifty 
per cent.; and yet real cures are recorded.. The healing 
power is not in the medicine imbibed by the mouth, but in that 
taken in by the eyes; in other words, not the stuff in the bottle, 

. but the stuff in the advertising matter _is.the-real_ medicine. 
The suggestion is accentuated by the exhilaration immedi- 
ately following the imbibing of alcohol. The belief in some 
particular medicine or physician who prescribes the medicine 
is an important agent in the healing. If sufficient confidence 
in the power of a concoction, a shrine, or a person can be 
aroused, genuine cures can be worked regardless of the healing 
properties of the dose.’ Charms have as much power for 
healing as belief bestows on them.? 

The successful physician, who must also be a keen observer, 
/is not unmindful of this fact. He knows better, even, than 
\ we that suggestion must play an important part in any cure. 

‘When the physician enters the house, before he has given us 
medicine or even seen us, we feel better. We have faith in 
him, and any physician in whom we have not faith will find 
it difficult to cure us of the most simple ailments. He knows 
that there are but few drugs upon which he can depend for 
uniform results, and that frequently a result directly opposite 
to the customary one, is brought about because it has been sug- 
gested in some way—the expected happens. A bread pill, 
or some other placebo, has had astonishing results, and es- 


tablished the reputation of a physician, because he has sug- 


1G. A. Coe, The Spiritual Life, pp. 151-189. 
2 Proceedings of the Society for Psychical Research, VI, p. 152. H. Wood, 
—SThe New Thought Simplified, p. 1109. 


212 FAITH CURE 


gested a desired end. Sometimes the expectation of the patient 
brings about results that areas humorous as happy. Numer- 
ous examples could be given, but one will suffice. A man 
with paralysis of the tongue put himself under the care of a 
physician who had recently perfected a piece of apparatus, 
by the use of which he promised and hoped to effect a speedy 
cure. Before applying the apparatus he concluded to take 
the man’s temperature and placed the thermometer in his 
mouth for that purpose. It had been there but a minute, when 
the man, who mistook the thermometer for the new appa- 
ratus, cried out joyfully that he could once more move his 
tongue freely.’ 

Notwithstanding that we know the large part which sug- 
gestion plays in ordinary therapeutics, we usually employ a 
physician, and are willing to pay for the suggestion, being con- 
fident that if it should do less good, it also does less harm than 
many of his drugs. It is noteworthy that many suggestionists, 


“<unjustly called swindlers, have been more successful than many 


scientific physicians. Perhaps all have had experience with 
‘wart charmers of which every neighborhood boasts at 
least one. When physicians had failed to remove warts, we 
went to the old man or old woman, held out our wart-covered 
hands, listened to an incomprehensible formula, watched 
him put his finger on his tongue and then on the wart. We 
did not know when, but the wart disappeared never to return. 
Suggestion, and expectancy brought about by suggestion, 
explain the phenomenon. 

I have cited these examples to show that healing wrought 
through faith-cure, hypnotism, and similar means is not very 
different from our every-day experiences. Our thoughts 
tend to express themselves in action, this.is.the psychical basis 
.of will. The law of faith-cure is also built upon this fact and 
may be expressed as follows: the body tends to adjust itself 

1H. Bernheim, Suggestive Therapeutics, p. 197 f. 


FAITH CURE 213 


,--s0-as to be in harmony with our ideas concerning it. How- 


ever the thought of cure may come into our minds, either 
__ by external or auto-suggestion, if it is firmly rooted so as to. 
impress the subconsciousness, that part of the mind which 
rules the bodily organs, a tendency toward cure is at once set 
up and continues as long as that thought has the ascendency. 
Hack Tuke quotes Johannes Miiller, a physiologist, who 
lived during the first half of the last century, as follows: 
“It may be stated as a general fact that any state of body 
which is conceived to be approaching, and which is expected 
with certain confidence and certainty of the occurrence, will 
be very prone to ensue, as the mere result of the idea if it 
do not lie beyond the bounds of possibility.”* This is also 
a fair statement of the law, but notwithstanding this shrewd 
observation, a quarter of a century passed before much or 
any use was made of it as a therapeutic agent, and even to- 
day, although the evidence is overwhelming, some people 
look upon it as a superstition. 


1D. H. Tuke, The Influence of the Mind upon the Body, etc., p. 36. 


CHAPTER XVI 
CHRISTIAN SCIENCE 


“For there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.” 
—SHAKESPEARE. 


THERE are many forms of faith-cure extant to-day, all 
using suggestion in some way to effect their cures. Mind- 
curers and mental healers employ direct suggestions, while 
_ 34 metaphysical healers and Christian Scientists use more in- 
direct methods. The last-named form of cure is selected 
for more detailed examination, because in its claims it is re- 
ligious, its method is most indirect, and it has a following 
which cannot be disregarded. 
In a psychological discussion we are not particularly in- 
terested in its origin, but rather in its developed state. It 
makes little difference whether Mrs. Mary A. M. Baker 
_ Glover Patterson Eddy originated her system as she claims, 
or acquired it of “Dr.” P. P. Quimby of Portland, Maine, 
. who cured her of some chronic nervous disease and taught 
‘her his system.” He died on January 16, 1866, she announced 
her system in 1866. Nor are we concerned with the affirma- 
tion that the first edition of Science and Health exhibited 
marked illiteracy and many more serious errors, and that a 
masterly hand has since reconstructed it. As literature it is 
still a mass of hodge-podge. It is significant, however, that 


.., 1H. Munsterberg, Psychology and Mysticism, Atlantic Monthly, 
Jan., 1899. 
*G. Milmine, Mary Baker G. Eddy, McClure’s Magazine, 1907 and 
1908. 
214 


CHRISTIAN SCIENCE 215 


the rise of this cult was contemporaneous with the revival of 
and the scientific attention to hypnotism and mental thera- 
 peutics." 

Christian Science has been the subject of much investigation 

and has inspired a great variety of opinions. Notice the 
following comprehensive summary: “‘ Again, so-called Chris- 
tian Science is forming in the United States to-day an almost 
equally grotesque mixture of crude pantheism, misunder- 
stood psychological and philosophical truths, and truly 
Christian beliefs and conceptions.”? This statement, recog- 
nizing as it does truth and error, good and evil, is worthy of 
the widest publication. 
_ This sect has gathered into its fold a large number, many of 
'whom are intellectual people. What has attracted its vo- 
\taries? They may be divided into two classes, according 
to the motives which have inspired their acceptance of this 
system. There are those who, in antagonism to the gross 
materialism of the past, have accepted the philosophy of the 
system, and look at the cures only as proof of the philosophi- 
cal position. Any person who consistently and tenaciously 
holds to subjective idealism is rather difficult to dislodge, 
and this task we shall have to pass over to the philosopher, 
as it lies outside of our present sphere. 

The members of the second class seek the cure and are 
willing to take the philosophical dose in order to accomplish 
_/it. They neither understand nor relish this method of treat- 
. ment, but if it will furnish relief they are willing to accept it. 

~The task of approaching this class must rest with the psy- 
chologist, and we first ask what attracts them and how can 
we negate this attraction? The people are not attracted by 
_, the errors of the doctrine, but by the truth incorporated in it. 


(“The remedy for the delusion is the discovery of the truth, 


1G. A. Coe, The Spiritual Life, p. 191. 
*G. T. Ladd, Philosophy of Religion, I, p. 167. 


216 CHRISTIAN SCIENCE 


not the indiscriminate condemnation of both truth and error 
as an unadulterated lie.”* Some persons have condemned 
indiscriminately, and others have tried to combat Christian 
{ Science by denying the alleged cures. This is unfortunate, for 
the positive evidence is abundant and trustworthy, and the 
~cures well within the scope of ordinary faith-cure. If we dis- 
pose of the cures by dogmatically denying them, we take the 
__ same position as does the Christian Scientist regarding disease, 
and neither ground is tenable. Christian Science is only too 
willing to be judged by its cures, and scoffing at these will 
only bring them more prominently before the public. It is also 
futile to endeavor to annjhilate it by denunciation, or by ex- 
posing the absurdity of the philosophy upon which it rests. 
So long as there are practical results in the form of therapeutic 
~~» effects, this class cares little for the denunciation and less for 
the philosophy. 

As a system of therapeutics, Christian Science is not only 
tolerable, but, for certain ailments, commendable, if it could 
begin and end there;-but-as-a-religion_it is preposterous. If 

—we-could-have-the.therapeutics without the-religion, all would 
be well, but unfortunately the latter is an important part of the 
therapeutics; without the aid of the religion it would be lack- 
ing in the principal factor designed to bring about the ex- 
pectancy so necessary to the cure, for, as with all forms of 
religious healing, it points the mind to an inexhaustible sup- 
ply of beneficent power. ‘‘The most deep-seated form of 


~~ ~\ belief is religious faith, and there cannot be the slightest doubt 


that religious emotion, from the lowest fetishism to the high- 
est Protestantism, has always been fertile soil for therapeutic 
suggestions.”” When a believer associates the Deity with 
his idea of cure, he is accustomed to expect it to be sudden 

, and complete, as the result of a definite religious manifestation; 
this in fact often occurs. 


* Truth and Error in Christian Science, Outlook, June 23, 1906. 


CHRISTIAN SCIENCE 217 


Yes, for certain ailments its therapeutics is commendable, 
and the same can be said of other forms of faith-cure, but for- 
.. certain ailments..only.. Like the patent medicine it makes 
no diagnosis, and consequently fails to distinguish between © <« 
the curable and the incurable. It, therefore, prescribes the 
same dose for all persons, regardless of age or of chronicity, 
and forall complaints. It is dangerous in one further respect: 
J it Condemns all medical science and discourages all forms of 
‘cure except its own. The effect of mind on body (?) is 
“recognized, but the complementary effect, that of body on 
_-mind, of which we are equally confident, is not admitted, 
‘' “for body, apart from “mortal mind,” does not exist. 
Of course, Christian Science cannot cure everything, and 
‘hits attempt to do so must result in many failures; but there 
must also be many cures to counterbalance the failures, for 
if all the attempts ended disastrously the system would never 
have started and could not be continued. The reason usually 
given for failure is “lack of faith.” This is true in fuictional” 
diseases, for it means nothing else than that the patient is 
not a susceptible subject, 7. e., that he is not suggestible. In 
organic cases the remedy is not equal to the task set for it. 
I wish to recall two statements made in the preceding chap- 
ter which have a bearing on this subject. The first is this: 
ee There is no difference between having no pain and thinking 
you have no pain; the mental states are exactly the same. 
~The Christian Science healer sits down beside the patient 
and endeavors to instil into his mind the fact that pain does 
not exist, therefore he can have no pain, or as Mrs. Eddy 
expresses it in her Science and Health, the object of such 
treatment is ‘‘to destroy the patient’s belief in his physical 
~~ condition.” She further advises her followers, “mentally con- 
tradict every complaint from the body.” If she can succeed 
in getting the patient to believe in the non-existence of pain, 
the pain is gone. From Science and Health we have also 


218 CHRISTIAN SCIENCE 


the following which may serve to elucidate the system, “All 
disease is the result of education, and can carry its ill effects no 
further than mortal mind maps out the way.” A terse state- 
ment illustrating the method is found in this sentence, ‘“ De- 
_> stroy fear and you end the fever.” 

' The Christian Scientist has seized upon a fact which is 
well known to the medical profession, and has benefited by 
its practical application. It is no secret that doubt, worry, 
and fear are depressing, that they aggravate all diseases, and 

Tare predisposing causes of various functional disorders. 
- On the other hand, there is an efficacy about courage, hope, 
and faith, which defies analysis by the physician who trusts 
only in drugs. A Don’t-Worry Club would be a valuable 
adjunct to a quarantine station, for fear of a contagious dis- 
~>ease is the most certain method of contracting it. 

What the Christian Scientist afhrms concerning disease 
is also stated regarding sin, for both physical and moral evil 
are classed together in a wholesale negation. “Christian 
{ Science, so-called, the sect of Mrs. Eddy, is the most radical 
~ branch of mind-cure in its dealings with evil. For it evil 

‘S is simply a Jie, and any one who mentions it is a liar. The 
optimistic ideal of duty forbids us to pay it the compliment 
even of explicit attention. Of course,... this is a bad 
speculative omission, but it is intimately linked with the 
practical merits of the system we are examining. Why re- 

>, gret a philosophy of evil, a mind-curer would ask us, if I can 
“ put you in possession of a life of good ?’”* 

While all forms of faith-cure aim at the same result the 
methods differ. Both hypnotic operator and Christian Science 

healer seek to alleviate or remove pain and disease by im- 
pressing the mind of the sufferer, the one by truthfully recog- 
nizing the existence of the trouble and endeavoring to bring 
about mental states which cure it, the other by untruthfully 

1'W. James, The Varieties of Religious Experience, p. 106 f. 


CHRISTIAN SCIENCE 219 


Ansisting that it does not and cannot exist. Both are success- 
ful at times. The whole system of suggestive therapeutics 
may be divided into two classes on this basis. What we may 
designate as metaphysical cure denies that either matter or 
evil exists, and heals by inspiring the belief that the disease 
cannot assail the patient because he is pure spirit; the other 
class, faith-cure, recognizes the disease, but cures by faith 
in the power of Divinity, persons, objects, or suggestion.’ 
The other expression which I wish to recall is that sug- 
gestive therapeutics of any and every kind is efficacious for 
one class of diseases, viz., the functional ones. Where the 
organ is affected, as in a honeycombed kidney or a de- 
stroyed lung, the disease is called organic, and suggestion, ex- 
cept in incipient cases and in an indirect way, can render no 
aid. Mrs. Eddy declares that she has cured such diseases 
“‘as readily as purely functional diseases,’ but it is in at- 
tempting to treat cases of this kind that Christian Scientists 
have fallen into trouble. Mrs. Eddy, in Science and Health, 
makes the following statement which is an admission of 
weakness and would apply as well to other parts of her sys- 
tem. “But it would be foolishness to venture beyond our 
present understanding, foolish to stop eating, until we gain 
more goodness and a clearer comprehension of the living God.” 
We also have the following from the same source: ‘‘ Until the 
advancing age admits the efficacy and the supremacy of Mind, 
it is better to leave the adjustment of broken bones and dis- 
locations to the fingers of the surgeon, while you confine your- 
self chiefly to mental reconstruction, and the prevention of 
inflammation and protracted confinement.”’ If the reports of 
the daily press are to be relied upon, recently another sign 
of retraction has come from the oracle of Concord. It is to 


1A. T. Myers and F. W. H. Myers, Mind Cure, Faith Cure, and the 
Miracles at Lourdes, Proceedings of the Society for Psychical Research, 
IX, p. 160}, 


b/ yé ¢ 


vty 


220 CHRISTIAN SCIENCE 


the effect that organic diseases must not be treated by the 
healers, until the world becomes better educated to receive 


her revelation. This is wise, for the healers have been ar- 
rested, tried, and convicted for ‘their failure and criminal 


“Snegligence in not seeking other aid in such cases. Functional 


gt re, 
Z ge 


/ HAL 
{ 


diseases they cure as other faith-curers do, organic diseases in 
Advanced stages, never. This latest order from Mrs. Eddy 


is a virtual admission of incompetency in organic diseases, 


and puts Christian Science, by its own stated position, on a 
par with other forms of faith-cure. 

There are not a few other systems of healing which vie 
with Christian Science, not in the magnitude, but in the 
credulity of their followers. For example, let me refer to a 
monthly publication called Unity. The copy which I have 
in hand is that for February, 1906. One of the leaves of 
this publication is of red paper, and in addition to elaborate 
instructions for its use given by the editor, the sheet has 
printed on it the following: ‘This sheet has been treated by 
the Society of Silent Unity, after the manner mentioned in 
Acts 19:11, 12. Disease will depart from those who repeat 


é silently, while holding this in hand, the words printed hereon.” 


In addition to these instructions we find these words: ‘“ Af- 
frmation for Strength and Power. February 20th to 
March 20th. (Held daily at 9:00 P.M.) THE STRENGTH AND 
POWER OF DIVINE MIND ARE NOW ESTABLISHED IN THE 
Mipst oF ME; AND SHALL GO NO MORE OUT. Affirmation 
for Prosperity. (Held daily at 12m.) THE RICHES OF THE 
LorD-CHRIST ARE NOW POURED OUT UPON ME, AND I Am 
SUPPLIED WITH EVERY GOOD THING.” 

Near the end of the publication are some testimonials to 


the value of such suggestions. I choose three of them. 


“While. holding the Red Leaf between my hands it caused 
vibrations through my whole system, and rheumatic pains 
that I was troubled with disappeared as if by magic.— 


i 


agg 


CHRISTIAN SCIENCE 221 


M. T. RR.” “Your Red Sheet of November I used in treat- 
ing my sister for appendicitis, and also for myself for sore 
throat. With the December one I treated myself for sore 
throat and bronchitis, with wonderful results in both and in 
all cases.—L. V. D.” “Your treatments for prosperity 
have done us so much good, and we are feeling more pros- 
perous, which will open the way to our receiving more. 
Since our treatments our chickens have laid better, the food 
goes further, and our whole living seems easier.—A. M. L.” 
It is to be expected that so long as the chickens and people re- 


Spond so readily to the most naive and crass forms of sug- 
“gestion, there will always be found those willing to give the 
. Suggestions for a consideration. 


‘have presented this on account of its similarity to Christian 
Science, since it shows that suggestions may be readily given 
through the distribution of literature, and also because it 
shows the efficacy of such suggestions. Of course each 
system claims to have the only true method. Mrs. Eddy 
devotes a portion of Science and Health to presenting a theory 
of hypnotism, which has been exploded for decades far more 


effectively than she could do it, and then proceeds to anni- | 


hilate it. No one claims that Mrs. Eddy uses hypnotism, 
but suggestion is the key-note of both methods. Thus 
it is—the mind-curer pities the deceived pilgrim of Lourdes, 
and both despise the charms and fetishes of the African 
savage. Cain turns against Abel, he acknowledges no re- 
lationship. 


By its optimistic attitude, Christian Science cheers and 
uplifts the sick, which in itself is a valuable remedial agent.) 


In this it is very similar to the so-called New Thought, as 
expounded by Dresser, Wood, Trine, Fletcher, and others. 
Optimism and a joyful atmosphere are enjoined upon all the 
followers, and by the constancy of this mood, sickness is 
eluded, and health and happiness reign. The New Thought 


222 CHRISTIAN SCIENCE 


_ publications are interesting and not unwholesome reading. 
.{ Absent treatment, given by Christian and other healers, is 
+ but another form of external or auto-suggestion, and does 
--not differ in principle from the kinds already mentioned. 

Our attitude toward Christian Science should be that of 
admitting the cures, but recognizing the method; and the only 
way of combating this part of the teaching is by explanation, 
not by denial or scoffing. When we approach the theory 
of Christian Science we find a conglomeration of quasi- 

__x~ metaphysical affirmations together with a professed interpre- 

/ tation of the Scriptures. These must be dealt with by the 

philosopher and the theologian, so we leave the subject to 
them at this point. 


CHAPTER XVII 
THE MIRACLES 


“There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are 
dreamt of in your philosophy.” SHAKESPEARE. 


THE devout Romanist and the follower of Mrs. Eddy 
probably consider the two preceding chapters iconoclastic, 
on account of the attempt to reduce to psychological terms 
the events which to them have a miraculous or metaphysical 
significance. ‘To be consistent they wish to know what we are 
to do with the miracles of the New Testament. It is not 
our purpose to dodge the issue, for we are searching for truth, 
and “truth at any price” is our motto. Let us consider these 
miracles and see if they, too, fit into the psychological laws 
of suggestive therapeutics. To be fair we must take the 
accounts as we find them, and not accept those which suit 
our purpose and reject or change those which appear to stand 
outside of the laws. If one is untrustworthy simply because 
it does not fit our theory, the others are not to be taken 
simply because they do. With this understanding we will 
proceed. Of course, no one supposes that the gospel 
accounts contain wholly accurate and complete details of the 
miracles, since careful precision in recording facts is a some- 
what recent accomplishment. 

In a study of the miracles performed by Jesus and the 
apostles, one noticeable feature is the large number of them 
which have to do with the bodies of men. We have a record 
of thirty-four miracles performed by Jesus and fourteen by 
the apostles, forty-eight in all. Of these, twenty-six of 


223 


224 THE MIRACLES 


Jesus’ are miracles of healing, and eight deal with other 
things. Of those performed by the apostles, all are con- 
cerned with human bodies. That is, of forty-eight miracles 
performed by Jesus and the apostles, no less than forty— 
eighty-three per cent. of the whole—were performed on 
human bodies. This may seem very natural from one 
standpoint, when we consider that Jesus’ mission here was 
with people, and the tender heart of Jesus would be touched 
by the sufferings of those around Him, inciting Him to help 
them; but in the light of the cures performed through the me- 
dium of suggestion, it may be interesting to inquire, at least, 
concerning the possibility of the use of this method by Jesus 
and the apostles. 

We have two questions to ask in presenting this subject 
in order that we may be able to determine the value of such 
an inquiry. The first is this: In the event of such an hy- 
pothesis being accepted, would it do away with the distinctive 
character and value of the miracles? If it is affirmed that 
the method used by Jesus and His apostles is in use to-day 
for healing, would the miraculous character of the miracles 
be annulled? If we are able partially to explain the miracles, 
do they cease to be miracles? Our answer to this question 
would undoubtedly be “No.” In the first place, the es- 
sential factor in the idea of miracle is the psychological 
effect. Anything which causes wonder and astonishment 
on account of the inexplicable character of the phenomena 
by known facts would be a miracle. A trolley car or wire- 
less telegraphy would have been as great a miracle in Jesus’ 
day as stilling the tempest or raising the dead. Curing by 
suggestive therapeutics is a miracle to illiterate people to-day. 
In the second place, we.cannot explain the miracles... he 
best-known things are inexplicable, and_science.has..no.fewer 
unexplained facts than religion. When we reduce any 
phenomena to law we do not explain them, for what is law 


THE MIRACLES 225 


but the result of our habitual observation, or better, the 
habitual working of the divine in the world? When we are 
able to understand things in part, it does not mean that God 
is excluded from them. If Jesus used His knowledge of 
men, of the connection existing between mind and body, to 
heal them, when we read His thoughts after Him and use the 
knowledge which He has revealed to us, we do not in the 
least detract from His greatness, but draw ourselves more 
into harmony with it. He did not explain His method; men 
have dogmatized concerning it, but Jesus neither affirmed nor 
denied their theories. 

The second question is this: In showing the relationship 
between the healing of Jesus and the apostles and modern 
healing, do we not thereby establish the possibility and prob- 
ability of the historicity of the miracles? Do we not give 
the best apology for the miracles which it is possible to give? 
This question we as confidently answer in the affirmative. 
The scoffer or doubter has less ground on which to stand, 
and these miracles become demonstrated facts which can- 
not well be refuted. 

In our study of the miracles, we shall use hypnotism as 
representative of suggestive therapeutics in any comparisons, 
for this has been most scientifically examined, and is a more 
constant phenomenon. Of the forty miracles performed 
by Jesus and the apostles on the bodies of men, all classes 
but three have been duplicated by hypnotism. I say “‘classes,”’ 
not that each specific case has been duplicated. The de- 
scriptions of some of the cases are too vague to allow us to 
draw any positive conclusions. For instance, when the ac- 
counts speak of such cases as “the sick” and of long-standing 
infirmities, they are too indefinite to be used in the com- 
parisons, although the use of hypnotism is especially effica- 
cious in chronic and long-standing maladies. 

The classes of cases which have not been duplicated by 


226 THE MIRACLES 


hypnotism are, (1) The healing of Malchus’ ear after Peter 
had struck it off. Unfortunately, this incident is not so well 
authenticated as most of the others, for while all four evange- 
lists speak of the ear’s being struck off, only Luke, the one 
whose information was least direct, speaks of the cure. But 
while it might not be sufficiently important in the midst of such 
stirring events for the others to note it, it attracts the attention 
of the beloved physician on account of his profession. I say 
that hypnotism has not duplicated this if it is meant that the 
ear was really struck off, and Jesus by touching it immediately 
restored it as it formerly was. If it means simply that the 
ear was cut and Jesus stopped the flow of blood, then this 
would not be so classed. (2) The second class is the lepers. 
I find no account of an attempt to effect a cure of leprosy by 
the means of hypnotism. (3) Then we have five cases usually 
classed as raising of the dead, three by Jesus and two by the 
apostles. Of these five, two are directly affirmed not to be 
dead, but notwithstanding this direct affrmation, we do not 
accept it. The ruler’s daughter was ‘‘not dead but sleep- 
ing,” and “‘life is still in him,” said Paul of the young man 
who fell out of the window. Nevertheless, the other three are 
beyond any known laws of suggestive therapeutics. 

Now, while I have said that all the other classes have been 
duplicated by hypnotism, some of the individual cases have 
not. Two in particular are beyond its limits. Hypnotism 
has cured the lame, but never the congenital lame grown to 
manhood. Hypnotism has cured the blind, but never the 
congenital blind. All these forty miracles are of healing 
with the exception of three. Three destructive miracles were 
performed by the apostles. Ananias and Sapphira were 
struck dead, and Elymas was struck blind. Suggestion has 
had similar effects. 

In our study of suggestive therapeutics, we have found two 
elements necessary for any cure: the first is suggestion, the 


THE MIRACLES 227 


second is trustful expectation or faith. Suggestions must be 
given directly by the healer, or indirectly by what persons 
have read or heard; faith must always be on the part of the 
person to be healed. Let us look and see if these conditions 
are carried out in the New Testament miracles. Almost 
without exception we find suggestion made and made directly, 
and where no mention of it is found, we cannot help believ- 
ing that it is present. Strangest of all, suggestion is made to 
the dead before they arise. Lazarus is commanded in a loud 
voice to come forth from the tomb, the daughter of the ruler 
and the young man of Nain are both spoken to and com- 
manded to arise, and Dorcas is ordered by Peter to arise 
from the bier. 

At certain times the suggestions are given more fully than at 
others and are very pronounced. Mark gives us one example 
of Jesus’ which is quite striking. Jesus comes to the borders 
of Decapolis, and they bring unto Him one who is deaf and 
dumb. Jesus takes him aside from the multitude privately, 
in order that He may better give the suggestions without dis- 
tractions. But how is this to be done? The man cannot 
hear so Jesus cannot talk to him, but yet He must give him 
suggestions. Jesus first put His fingers to His ears to signify 
which organs He wished to be affected; then he spat and 
touched his tongue to draw attention to the other infirmity. 
He next looked up to heaven, sighed, and said, ‘‘ Ephphatha,”’ 
meaning ‘‘Be opened.”” The man, in looking, could not help 
knowing what Jesus said, for no word could more easily be 
read from the lips. The result wa’ a cure. We could not 
imagine a better method of suggestion to a deaf and dumb 
man. 

Take, as a further example, Peter’s method. As Peter 
and John were going into the temple they came upon a lame 
man at the Beautiful Gate. He asked alms of them. Peter 
turned around and fastened his eyes on him, and commanded 


228 THE MIRACLES 


in turn that he should look at them. Here is one of the first 
principles of suggestion, fixation of attention by the steady 
gaze. The record says, “Then he gave heed unto them.” 
Peter talks to him, ‘‘Silver and gold have I none, but what 
I have that give I thee.” Then comes the suggestion ending 
with an abrupt command, ‘In the name of Jesus Christ of 
Nazareth, Walk!” Following up the verbal suggestion with 
a dramatic one, he took him by the right hand and raised 
him up. The man was immediately cured. Paul repeats 
this method very closely on the lame man at Lystra. 

In one of Jesus’ cures we have an example of what is not 
uncommon to-day, viz., that the cure was gradual and the 
suggestions had to be repeated. Mark, who usually lays 
emphasis on the immediateness of the cure, gives us an ac- 
count of this. At Bethsaida they bring Him a blind man. 
He takes him by the hand, leads him out of the village, spits 
on his eyes, lays His hands on him, and asks, “‘Seest thou 
aught?” And he answered and said, “I see men as trees 
walking.”’ It was necessary to repeat the suggestion, so He 
again laid hands on him and this time the man saw clearly. 
An examination of the accounts of the miracles will show the 
element of suggestion to be very prominent. 

The other element necessary in suggestive therapeutics 
is faith. Faith in Paul’s writings always has the same ob- 
ject, viz., Jesus Christ, but in the wsus loquendi of Jesus it 
has many different objects. It may be God, or His own 
power to heal, or the process. It is most frequently used in 
connection with healing of some kind. We find this a sine 
qua non in Jesus’ work. No one could be healed without it. 
The healing was given to them in proportion to their faith. 
‘According to your faith be it unto you.”’ We find that He 
was unable to do mighty works in Nazareth on account of 
their unbelief. We also find Him asking concerning their 
faith before He attempts a cure. 


THE MIRACLES 229 


Look at three examples. When Jesus was going to the 
house of the ruler to heal his daughter, there was a woman 
who had heard of Jesus’ cures and perhaps had seen them, 
so that she had great faith in His power. Her faith was so 
great that she thought even if she could touch the hem of His 
garment she might be healed. She touched His garment, 
and even before Jesus was aware of it she was healed. Her 
faith had made her whole. After the death of Ananias and 
Sapphira the people had unbounded faith in Peter. He 
healed many, evidently suggesting directly to them, but there 
were some whose faith was so great that they were healed by 
being carried out into the streets and laid on beds and couches, 
so that as Peter walked by his shadow might fall on them. 
Now none of us would claim that there was any virtue in 
Peter’s shadow; the virtue was in their faith, When Paul 
was at Ephesus, so great was the faith of the people in him 
and in the power which he had to heal, that “unto the sick 
were carried away from his body handkerchiefs or aprons, 
and the disease departed from them.”’ No particular virtue 
resided in the handkerchiefs which had touched Paul’s 
body, the virtue lay in their faith, in the power of their minds 
over their bodies. 

These two requisites for healing in suggestive therapeutics 
were also necessary for healing by miracle; in fact, the re- 
semblance of method and form is so strikingly similar, it 
seems that we may be Justified in affirming that Jesus and 
the apostles used suggestive therapeutics as the modus oper- 
andi in at least some of their healing. 

What, then, must be our conclusions from a study of the 
miracles of Jesus from the standpoint of modern psychologi- 
cal investigations? One thing is apparent, in this as in 
other departments of life, He was Son of Man as He pro- 
claimed Himself to be. What makes Jesus so precious to us, 
is that He is so near to us. He was tempted as we are 


230 THE MIRACLES 


tempted, He was weary and sought rest even as we must. 
He had compassion on the needy person and city as we are 
touched by the sight of need. He suffered as we suffer. 
He wept—yes, as a man He wept manly tears as we must 
weep, and He loved as His great heart opened to the world— 
yes, we, too, may love. At funeral bier or marriage feast 
He was the man Christ Jesus. As He approaches the bed- 
side of the sick may He not also be the Son of Man? Could 
He not heal as we heal? Does not this bring Him nearer 
to us? 

But if modern psychology has this to say it also has more. 
He is not only Son of Man. At least sixteen of the thirty- 
four miracles performed by Him have never been duplicated 
by suggestive therapeutics, and as far as we are able to see 
now, from their very nature they never will be. As in other 
parts of His life He came down to our level and worked as we 
work. But He ascended so far above us that His shining 
form is seen among the stars. We can walk a certain distance 
with Him in any phase of life, but the shackles of sin and the 
fetters of selfishness soon hinder us so that our journey ends 
in a longing for His goodness and power. When asked 
concerning His dwelling the Son of Man admits, as might the 
beggar or outcast of to-day, that He has not where to lay His 
head; the Son of God speaks of His Father’s house of many 
mansions to which He is going. He performs such simple 
acts of service, He washes the disciples’ feet—the weakest 
among us could do that; but He also forgave sin. As man 
He accepted the doom of Calvary and gave up the ghost as 
we must; as the very Christ He overcame the last enemy— 
death. We are always able to start with Him, but how far 
He goes beyond us! He healed the sick and feverish by 
command as men to-day may, but He also raised the dead, 
a feat which the wildest thinkers of modern science do not 
anticipate. Where the line of demarcation between His 


THE MIRACLES 2a 


human and divine influence on the subconsciousness of 
man is to be drawn, it is not easy for us to determine, but 
notwithstanding this, from our study we must recognize 
Him as Son of Man and Son of God, the God-man, Christ 
Jesus. 


CHAPTER XVIII 
CONVERSION 


‘“‘How that might change his nature, there’s the question.” —SHAKE- 
SPEARE. 


In dealing with the subject of religious conversion,’ its 
very nature compels us to treat it incompletely. However 
much we may believe in the divine element in conversion 
and in the religious life generally, it must remain. an unknown 
quantity, and it can only be judged by the apparent effects 
upon the persons experiencing it. In this chapter it will be 
the aim to examine the effects upon the individual of all con- 
tributing influences in conversion, but no attempt will be 
made to analyze, describe, or explain the divine element. 

The nature of our data causes us, probably, the greatest 
difficulty; as already noted, it is almost impossible to get 
accurate facts. Faulty introspection and the influence of the 
experiences of others are the chief troubles. The testimony 
of other persons, as heard in meetings, acts in a suggestive 
way. In a testimony meeting, it will be found that most of 
the experiences agree, with the exception of a very few de- 
tails, and the latter are more and more eliminated as the 
speakers listen to each other week after week. In services 
held by different churches and denominations, it will be 
found that while the testimonies in one church are in harmony 
they may be very different from the concurring testimonies 
in another church. Giving full credit to the element of 


* Much of Chap. X of my Psychology of Alcoholism is reproduced here. 


232 


CONVERSION 233 


similarity due to expectancy, we still have left a large factor 
due to subsequent agreement of an unconscious character. 

We encounter another difficulty. The term “‘conversion”’ 
has been preémpted by one form of conversion so that when 
we hear it we naturally think of this form only. The sud- 
den form and the Pauline type have been taken as a standard 
by revivalists, and the rest of us have meekly accepted their 
dicta. Not only has there been a certain type, but a pre- 
scribed formula has been thrust upon us according to which 
every one must conform. ‘The main parts of the formula are 
a sinking into the depths of agony and despair, and an in- 
stantaneous uplift and release which, on account of its 
spasmodic and sudden character, is considered by those who 
experience it as miraculous. The revivalist usually intensifies 
each particular step in the process, and with all his dramatic 
ability portrays the symptoms. The convert feels in duty 
bound to experience all the things which he has had outlined 
in an orthodox way, and if very suggestible does not have 
very much trouble in doing so. The unsuggestible either 
compromise their honesty or conclude that they are not 
among the elect. 

Those who have tried to impose this uniform plan of sal- 
vation upon the many who would listen to them have prob- 
ably been unconscious of the fact that it was simply the ex- 
perience of Paul reduced to a formula, and that Paul stood 
alone, of all New Testament characters, in his experience.’ 
It seems strange that the one experience of Pentecost and 
the single experience of Paul, neither of which the New 
Testament workers ever tried to duplicate, should be se- 
lected among so many methods of working and so many 
conversions, as the only true and God-given form of effort and 


1 For a psychological analysis of Paul’s experience, see C. D. Royse, 
“The Psychology of Paul’s Conversion,” American Journal of Religious 
Psychology and Education, I, pp. 143-154. 


234 CONVERSION 


of approach to the Infinite. Pentecost needed a defence 
against the charge of drunkenness, and Paul evidently did 
not find it easy to convince the disciples of the reality of his 
experience. On the other hand, notice the quiet but ever- 
effective method of Jesus, subject to no criticism, and the 
sane, normal experience of Matthew, Zaccheus, the Ethi- 
opian, and Timothy. 

Not only is instantaneous conversion not the only true 
type of approaching God, but it is the extreme form of one 
type among several. Instead of saying, with all its serious 
consequences, that there is only one way of approach to God, 
it would be more true to say that no two persons ever come 
in the same way, but that each case is unique. No type is 
clearly marked, but individual experiences show that the 
types run into each other. The tendency of the one-formula 
method is to produce a mediocre and constrained lot of 
Christians, all trying, with indifferent success, to conform 
to the same pattern. It is similar to the discipline of the 
Jesuits, which stifles individual characteristics and puts all 
into one class, which is necessarily not the first class. 

Jesus did not foster the sudden method of conversion and 
it has never been universal since His time. The Roman 
Catholic, the Lutheran, and the Episcopal denominations 
have never encouraged it. The catechism and confirma- 
tion have taken the place of this, sometimes, to be sure, re- 
sulting in a formal and somewhat spineless religion, but es- 
caping the dangers of the revival method. The value of the 
extreme type is a modern doctrine and a product of the re- 
vival, the Methodists and the New England Congregationalists 
being the ones who developed it. Both the revival and the 
exclusive sudden conversion have been incidents merely in the 
great religious life of the world, incidents of value for the 
time, but passing now into oblivion, and giving place to the 
more normal and valuable processes. 


CONVERSION 235 


It is not, mark you, that conversion is out of date, but simply 
that one form is passing. Conversion is a normal human ex- 
perience—‘“‘a natural, normal, universal, and necessary 
process of adolescence.” This is best seen in the thousands 
of Christian homes throughout the land, where from infancy 
children are reared in the knowledge of that which is best, 
and with the expectation of always living a life of righteous- 
ness in which their powers shall be exerted in the advance- 
ment of the Kingdom of God. In the days of adolescent 
adjustment there is then some ground on which to build. 

Further, it is difficult to consider conversion alone for it 
is but a part of a process. It is a life rather than an isolated 
experience which should be the unit. It is, therefore, not 
the so-called miraculous, yet really abnormal, experience 
which should be the test of conversion, but the Christ-like 
conduct which is the fruit of our lives. The important thing 
about Paul’s conversion was not the bright light, nor the 
words heard, nor the blindness, nor any other of the incidental 
concomitants, but the conversion itself; and it was the change 
from the bigoted persecutor to the broad-minded preacher 
which betokened the divine hand in it rather than any ab- 
normal phenomena which accompanied it. 

In addition to the fallacy of endeavoring to give a descrip- 
tion of a single uniform type instead of a history of different 
conversions in which we recognize the difference as well as 
the similarity, there has been a tendency so to emphasize 
some one element in the process that that has been taken for 
the whole. In this endeavor to simplify matters they have 
been still further complicated. The simplest mental process 
is so complicated that we cannot hope to describe all the 
factors, that is true; our effort should be, however, to give 
as full description as possible in order that the full significance 
of the process should be realized. One factor can never 
represent all—the whole mind functions in the simplest act. 


236 CONVERSION 


It is worthy of note, as a matter of comparison, that 
sudden conversion may be of other than religious forms, 
and while being religious may be in the opposite direction. 
James’ gives three cases of unreligious conversion: one 
from prodigality to miserliness, one from intense love to 
hatred, and one from worry and anger to carefreeness and 
good nature. He also cites three cases of ‘“‘counter con- 
version,” 7. @., conversion from righteousness to infidelity. 
Starbuck? gives a number of examples of unreligious con- 
version. 

Instead of designating these types sudden and gradual, 
we may speak of them from some other standpoint than that 
of the time involved. Starbuck* characterizes them as 
‘Escape from sin” and “Spiritual Illumination.” One may 
readily see how the element of time would be necessarily 
connected with the difference in the process; the former 
would be sudden and violent, the latter would be mentally 
gradual. Another classification by the same author follows 
in general the same line. It is that of self-surrender and 
volition; the former conforms to the sudden type and the 
latter to the gradual. 

Before we attempt an analysis of the process or processes 
it might seem imperative to have a definition of conversion. 
Attention is again called to the fact that conversion is not a 
complete process in itself, but forms a part of a process of 
which the total religious experience is the whole. It should 
be noted that those parts which seem at first to be sudden and 
instantaneous are but the fructification of a longer or shorter 
development, most probably of a subconscious nature. This 
process of conversion is variously defined and explained, 
as may be seen from the following quotations: 


1W. James, The Varieties of Religious Experience, pp. 176-181. 
7E. D. Starbuck, Psychology of Religion, pp. 137-144. 
3E. D. Starbuck, Psychology of Religion, pp. 85 ff. 


CONVERSION 237 


“Conversion is in its essence a change of intention.’’* 

“The regenerate life is a changed life; ... it is a change 
marked by the consciousness of the person’s own needs, and 
that the Christ life can satisfy them.’’? 

“., . At last the rationalistic fetters fall off, and the sup- 
pressed hypnotic centres explode with immense satisfaction. 
This is the most important key to the psychology of ‘con- 
version.’’’* 

“The essence of religion is a striving toward being, not 
toward knowing.” In Christianity “the goal of religious 
life becomes regeneration, by which unification of motives 
—t. é., union with God, when objectively considered—is 
achieved.”’* | 

“The explanation of sudden conversion is no doubt to 
be sought in some overpowering impression upon the mind 
that supplies a new and energetic motive to the will, thereby 
initiating a new line of conduct. . . . Such changes occasion- 
ally happen, but not without terrific struggles, which prove 
how hard it is to set up the volition of a day against the bent 
of years.’’® 

“Conversion is suddenly forsaking the lower for the higher 
self. In terms of the neural basis of consciousness, it is the 
inhibition of lower channels of nervous discharge through 
the establishment of higher connections and identification 
of the ego with the new activities. In theological terminology 
it is Christ coming into the heart and the old life being blotted 
out—the human life being swallowed up in the life of God.”’® 


1F. Granger, The Soul of a Christan, p. 77. 

2 A. H. Daniels, ““The New Life,” American Journal of Psychology, 
VI, p. 102. 

3H. Ellis, Man and Woman, p. 202. 

‘J. H. Leuba, “A Study in the Psychology of Religious Phenomena,” 
American Journal of Psychology, VII, pp. 313 and 318. 

5A. Bain, Emotions and Will, p. 453. 

6E. D. Starbuck, The Psychology of Religion, p. 156 }. 


238 CONVERSION 


“To be converted, to be regenerated, to receive grace, to 
experience religion, to gain an assurance, are sO many 
phrases which denote the process, gradual or sudden, by 
which a self hitherto divided, and consciously wrong, in- 
ferior, and unhappy, becomes unified and consciously right, 
superior, and happy in consequence of its firmer hold upon 
religious realities.” 

“Now, there may be great oscillations in the emotional 
interest, and the hot places may shift before one. . . . Then 
we have the wavering and divided self.... Or the focus 
of excitement and heat, the point of view from which the 
aim is taken, may come to lie permanently within a certain 
system; and then, if the change be a religious one, we call it 
conversion, especially if the change be by crisis or sudden.’’* 

Many more quotations might be given to show the great 
difference in the definitions and explanations given by differ- 
ent men, or by the same man at different times. It is not 
claimed that any one is wrong, for the variety of expression 
shows what has already been stated, that religion applies to 
the whole man. The definition of religious conversion de- 
pends upon the standpoint from which it is viewed, the ac- 
tivity of mind concerning which one is speaking at the time, 
the mental activity thought to be chiefly concerned, the par- 
ticular type of conversion with which the speaker is familiar, 
or the interpretation of the facts by the individual. 

It is because it does concern the whole man, and not one 
faculty, that there is such a diversity of definition and expla- 
nation. Further, some in their definitions might entirely 
eliminate the human element, and speak of it in theological 
rather than psychological terms, as a divine act. So in order 
to get a correct definition of conversion we might take the 
substance of all definitions, and then probably it would not 
be too comprehensive. The idea of unity, so prominent with 

1W. James, The Varieties of Religious Experience, pp. 189 and 196. 


CONVERSION 239 


some, has this advantage: it comprehends the whole man; 
but complete unity seems to be rather the ideal, ripened ex- 
perience than the common experience of converts. 

It may be well for us at this time to examine some of the 
factors of conversion as experienced more or less commonly 
by different persons. The reader should take particular 
notice of the fact that no single case or definite type is being 
described, but only different factors which may or may not 
enter into the individual case. Whether or not we shall meet 
any one of them in any particular case is a matter which de- 
pends upon the temperament of the individual, and the forces 
which have been at work in him. 

One factor very common in cases of the abrupt type is that 
of conviction or a profound sense of sin antedating the crisis, 
from which the new life spontaneously shines forth as a 
natural reaction. The older form of the presentation of the 
Gospel, 7. ¢., the revival form, was that of the magnification 
of the guilt of sin, and the terrible results to the sinner. Sal- 
vation came as the rescue from sin rather than as the door to 
the abundant life. Whether this is the direct result of the 
manner of presenting the Gospel, or something inherent in 
conversion itself, it is difficult to say; but it will be interesting 
to compare the conversions of the future when the opposite 
form of the Gospel is more especially presented, to see if this 
will not correspondingly change the nature of conversion 
from a struggling away from sin to a striving toward right- 
eousness. Starbuck has the following to say concerning the 
sense of sin: 

“There are many shades of experience in this precon- 
version state. An attempt at a classification of them gave 
these not very different groups: Conviction for sin proper, 
struggle after the new life; prayer, calling on God; sense of 
estrangement from God; doubts and questionings; tendency 
to resist conviction; depression and sadness; restlessness, 


240 CONVERSION 


anxiety, and uncertainty; helplessness and humility; earnest- 
ness and seriousness; and various bodily affections. The 
result of the analysis of these different shades of experience 
coincides with the common designation of this preconversion 
state in making the central fact in all the sense of sin, while 
the other conditions are various manifestations of this, as 
determined, first, by differences in temperament, and second, 
by whether the ideal life or the sinful lije 1s vivid im conscious- 
ness... . We may safely say that we have to look for the cause 
underlying the sense of sin, in part, in certain temperamental 
and organic conditions, and not to consider it simply as a 
spiritual fact.’’* 

This last statement is especially true of adolescent con- 
versions which form, as we know, the larger number.’ 
Jonathan Edwards, however, defends this state, taking a 
theological rather than a psychological standpoint. “Surely 
it cannot be unreasonable,” he says, “‘that before God de- 
livers us from a state of sin and liability to everlasting woe, 
he should give us some considerable sense of the evil from 
which he delivers us, in order that we may know and feel 
the importance of salvation, and be enabled to appreciate 
the value of what God is pleased to do for us.’’* 

In Hall’s account of the sense of sin in his description of 
adolescent conversion‘ he finds four fruits of the sense of sin, 
viz., pain, guilt, craving for just punishment, and confession. 
Of course, we must keep in mind that these do not follow in 
every case, but may. Added to these, but less frequent, is a 
sense of hereditary corruption when we feel that we are the 
victims of ancestral vice. This sense of sin naturally leads 


1E. D. Starbuck, The Psychology of Religion, pp. 58 and 7r. 

* The discussion of the relation of conversion to the age of the indi- 
vidual will be considered in the following chapter. 

* Quoted by W. James, The Varieties of Religious Experience, p. 229. 

*G.S. Hall, Adolescence, II, pp. 305-314. 


CONVERSION 241 


to asceticism and its various forms of self-torture. Leuba’ 
gives the term “Sense of sin” a too comprehensive scope 
when he says, “The sense of sin. . . is at times little more 
than a feeling of physical misery, the anguish of the sickened 
flesh. In such cases the expressions ‘regret’ and ‘desire for 
relief? should properly take the place of ‘remorse’ and 
‘repentance,’ which designate experiences modified bvy~ 
specific intellectual considerations ignored by the persons 
we speak of.” If this is really the case, if this is reaily what 
we mean, let us say it. Why call it sense of sin if it is not? 
Let us exclude these from this category atid recognize that 
some physical concomitants accempany or precede con- 
version, but because they do so we are not bound to call them 
sense of “sin.” We should not gratuitously bring the term 
“sin” into the discussion simply because we are dealing 
with a religious subject. 

Following the sense of sin and the presentation of the 
ideal of a better life, a struggle between the higher and lower 
parts of the nature may ensue which is known as “the 
divided self.” It is the endeavor of the individual to make 
this new ideal his own, perhaps contrary to his habit of life 
for years, with a knowledge of the struggle which it may en- 
tail, and with associations and companions largely on the 
side of the former life. 

In this state, the struggle, misery, agony, and uncertainty, 
common in some cases, is felt, together with worry and anger, 
or despair and fear. The individual knows not where he 
will eventually settle, and some powers outside of him seem 
to be contending for possession of him. By some this con- 
dition, rather than the sense of sin stage, is called conviction. 
This may last for days or weeks or only for a moment; it 
may appear with varying degrees of intensity, and is modi- 


1 J. H. Leuba, “A Study in the Psychology of Religious Phenomena,” 
American Journal of Psychology, VII, p. 330. 


242 CONVERSION 


fied when the climax of the process of conversion takes place, 
although it is probably never eliminated from the Christian 
life. Coe tells us when dealing with the religion of a mature 
mind, that “‘Competition is going on for the mastery of life. 
You may call it, in theological terms, a struggle between 
Satan and the Spirit of God; or you may call it, in biological 
language, an effort to adjust ourselves to environment against 
unsdcialized remnants of the ape and tiger nature. In any 
case thé:contest is a fact that each one of us knows for him- 
self, irrespective of catechism, and of all theories, whether 
biological or theological.” ! 

We are, of course, reminded of the testimony of Paul, who, 
when he would do good, found evil present with him. This 
however, refers to a post-conversion experience, but is evi- 
dently of the same nature, if in a less degree, as the pre- 
conversion divided self. It is evident that the division of the 
self is never entirely healed, and unity afterward accom- 
plished in the process of conversion is only partial. In a 
subconscious way, if not otherwise, we should naturally 
expect that the association of years would crop up occasion- 
ally. But this preconversion divided self, caused as it is 
by the forces in one’s environment which tend to disrupt the 
unity of consciousness, consists of the contrast between the 
present condition and the fulfilment of ideals of conduct. 
James lays emphasis on the fact that this division is a 
matter of mental constitution, the extreme examples of 
which are found in psychopathic temperaments.” The sub- 
conscious factors are more or less prominent in cases of this 
kind. 

This is the period of doubt through which most adolescents 
pass, prior to the conversion climax. ‘These doubts differ 
in severity, sometimes, in extreme cases, driving the doubters 


1G. A. Coe, The Religion of a Mature Mind, p. 114. 
*W. James, The Varieties of Religious Experience, Chap. VIII. 


CONVERSION 243 


to suicide. These may be fought out in secret or displayed 
openly, but they come usually in adolescence although they 
may not end in conversion. A further discussion of doubt 
will be taken up in another place. The explanation of the 
divided self is probably to be found in the different systems 
of associations which may be mutually exclusive. 

In the conversion process, the natural consequent of the 
divided self is what has been termed self-surrender. The 
struggle has continued until the ego seems to be almost rent 
asunder in some cases; one or the other of the contesting 
factors must give way, and finally the old self, the lower 
desires, gives up the battle and sometimes instantaneously, 
sometimes gradually, the misery, worry, and despair are 
changed to happiness, trust, and confidence: the unsettled, 
divided self becomes stable and united. This is the turning 
point in the process. It sometimes seems to be immediately 
due to physical causes, at least quite largely. The struggle 
becomes so great and therefore so wearying, that the brain 
refuses to respond, bringing about temporarily a state of 
apathy and, in exceptional cases, coma. It may be called 
a surrender on both sides, insomuch that neither one shows 
signs of activity; but when activity again takes place or, in 
cases of coma, when consciousness appears, the side of the 
good is dominant. Notice that the break-down does not al- 
ways take place, but it may, and more frequently does in 
cases of sudden conversion. 

From the physiological standpoint the exhaustion is caused 
by the turning of energy into new channels, and breaking up 
the associations with the old. If we could speak in so crass 
a way concerning the processes of which we know little or 
nothing, we might say that the exhaustion is caused by the 
effort to connect the associations of this new cellular system, 
which is the basis of the ideal, with those which form the 
basis of the vital forces; or shall we say that it is exhausting 


244 CONVERSION 


to turn the total vital energy into new courses? ‘The same 
process is experienced in the breaking of any habit, but in a 
limited degree, for while the habit may touch a small part of 
the mental life, religion embraces the whole man. 

What has been said regarding the physical is but an 
analogy drawn from the psychical, from the state of exhaustion 
and the evident endeavor to transfer the ego to the side of 
the forces of the good. With the help of additional motives, 
advanced either by friends or by the self, consciously or 
sub-consciously, the transfer is made, and when once made 
the evil forces retreat; “resist the devil and he will flee from 
you.” With the weakening and the expulsion of the evil 
forces, there comes the unity of the ideals, feelings, and voli- 
tions, in fact, of the whole life, which is a characteristic feeling 
in the conversion process. Professor James speaks of the 
conversion climax as follows: 

“Let us hereafter, in speaking of the hot places in a man’s 
consciousness, the group of ideas to which he devotes himself, 
and from which he works, call it the habitual centre of his 
personal energy. It makes a great difference to a man 
whether one set of his ideas, or another, be the centre of his 
energy; and it makes a great difference as regards any set 
of ideas which he may possess, whether they become central 
or remain peripheral in him. To say that a man is ‘con- 
verted’ means, in these terms, that religious ideas, previously 
peripheral in his consciousness, now take a central place, 
and that religious aims form the habitual centre of his en- 
ergy. ... Now, if you ask of psychology just how the ex- 
citement shifts in a man’s mental system, and wiy aims that 
were peripheral become at a certain moment central, psy- 
chology has to reply that although she can give a general 
description of what happens, she is unable in a given case 
to account accurately for all the single forces at work. Neither 
an outside observer nor the Subject who undergoes the process 


CONVERSION 245 


can explain fully how particular experiences are able to 
change one’s centre of energy so decisively, or why they so 
often have to bide their hour to do so.”’? 

The struggle and victory may be toward an end which is 
distinctly defined, or it may be very confused, but it is against 
the old and for the new very clearly; and what we call self- 
surrender of the old, may be as well named the acceptance 
of the new; it depends on the standpoint from which we view 
it. It may be further expressed or defined by saying that 
the desire or affection for the new life, or for God, or for 
Jesus, is so overpowering as to drive out all baser motives 
or ideas. Luther and Wesley would say, “Believe you are 
saved and you are.” Believing you are saved is one form of 
self-surrender. 

In this type of conversion, in contrast with the volitional 
type, the will seems to play little part except in its own 
abeyance. A continued active exercise of the will seems to be 
a continuation of the divided self state. If this is given up, 
if there is a relaxation—a letting-go—the subconscious 
forces are allowed to exert an influence, and that new centre 
of energy which has been subconsciously developing takes 
the chief place in consciousness. When once this system 
becomes central it usually retains its new position, and con- 
trols the life. The state of exhaustion, or even coma, spoken 
of as a climax of the divided self state provides the needed 
relaxation, the opportunity for the appearance of the sub- 
conscious forces. What are these subconscious forces and 
whence comes the power? Is it simply subconscious activity ? 
Some would opine this to be the case. Is it divine power? 
Some would consider this to be the more correct way of 
stating the case. Here we are leaving the domain of fact 
and entering that of theory. It is noticeable, however, that 
the latter would not be inconsistent with the theory which I 

1W. James, The Varieties of Religious Experience, p. 196. 


246 CONVERSION 


have espoused, that if God works directly upon man He 
works through the subconsciousness. 

The result of self-surrender, or a part of the process, is the 
unification of the mind in contrast to the former divided 
self. This unification comes through the victory of the one 
side and the despotic rule of the dominant forces. Around 
these forces the life moves and hence comes the harmony. 
The individual now comes to live a life of affection for and 
harmony with that which was formerly but a vague ideal: 
he identifies himself with recognized good which is his high- 
est standard. ‘This is brought about, as are similar changes, 
by the dominance of an opposite group of associated ideas. 
The contrast between this and the old life has become 
definite, and everything should be done to transfer the person- 
ality to the new centres decisively and finally. “It [the proc- 
ess of unification] may come gradually or it may occur 
abruptly; it may come through altered feelings or through 
altered powers of action; or it may come through new in- 
tellectual insights, or through experiences which we shall 
later have to designate as ‘mystical.’ However it come, it 
brings a characteristic sort of relief; and never such extreme 
relief as when it is cast into the religious mould.”* This 
self-surrender, or religious victory, or sense of unity is fre- 
quently shown first by a desire to proclaim the change which 
has been experienced, in what is called confession or testi- 
mony. ‘The sense of newness, shortly to be described, may 
account for the almost irresistible impulse to proclaim it. 

Logically following self-surrender is faith. ‘This is a con- 
dition of mind shown by its attitude toward all truth con- 
sistent with its lately formed determination to accept the 
new life. This condition is one of receptivity toward the 
good. While logically these can be separated, in reality it is 
difficult, indeed impossible, to draw the line between them, 

1W. James, The Varieties of Religious Experience, p. 175. 


CONVERSION 247 


for they are both factors of a process, and these factors are 
so interwoven as to be inseparable. Faith could be defined 
as the acceptance of certain elements of the Christian life, 
as a belief in salvation, as believing that you are saved; but 
is not this the very point in self-surrender, accepting the new, 
believing in one’s own salvation? If they do not coincide, 
the distinction might be made thus: self-surrender is the be- 
ginning of a process of which faith is the continuance. Both 
self-surrender and faith have a large affective element. 

The change effected by this whole process is great, whether 
it has come gradually or suddenly, regardless of what mental 
element may seem to dominate, or what is the immediate 
antecedent of the change. Relieved of a great burden, as 
some express it, there is a feeling of peace and happiness in 
the unity achieved. Although psychologically the process 
of conversion does not stand alone, it is by far the most com- 
mon of its class, and perhaps on account of this seems more 
closely related to normal processes. In every-day life we 
find mental experiences analogous to each factor of the con- 
version experience, and sometimes to the whole process. 
While there may be at times abnormal elements in conver- 
sion, it conforms more closely to the experiences of every- 
day life than one at first supposes; and why not? Are we not 
being converted more or less every day? Do we not break 
old habits, and receive new revelations of truth that change 
us daily, making us different persons indeed to-day from 
what we were yesterday? Here again the difference should 
be emphasized—religious conversion in contradistinction 
from other experiences comprehends the whole mental life. 

The result of conversion, or perhaps we could better 
say, the final part of the process, differs with different indi- 
viduals. One experience which is very common is the feel- 
ing of newness, and properly so when we consider the change 
involved. The convert lives in a new world because he 


248 CONVERSION 


sees everything from a new point of view. Everything 
appears beautiful, and the world calls forth exclamations 
of admiration. The convert suddenly becomes an optimist 
of the most pronounced type; he wonders why he did not 
see the good in every person and thing before, and a smile 
is upon his face because he sees the beautiful significance 
of all things. This newness brings him joy and freedom, 
partly because he feels justified as if his sins were for- 
given, and he has come into harmony with God and 
the world. It is the joy and freedom of the prisoner 
released from his bonds. He may appear overjoyful, 
ultra-confident, and superoptimistic, but he is sure that he 
is normal, and wonders why others fail to experience as 
much joy as he. He feels confident that it will never de- 
crease, that he will always be equally happy. In psychic 
troubles depression precedes all exaltation, and this newness 
evidently comes as a reaction from the previous depressed 
state which we have called sense of sin. 

The feelings, no doubt, fluctuate from time to time, and 
become much calmer, but the attitude toward the new life 
and the old remains constant. Religion thus acts in a 
double way on the feelings—it does arouse them, but it also 
aids to calm them; they may become much excited, but there 
are also in religion the motives for control. Leuba compares 
the experience of newness to that felt by ‘“‘the youth who has 
sung for the first time his love-tale to his lady and receives 
the assurance of requited love, the afflicted one who has 
walked through a dark passage and suddenly comes to the 
light,” and this is undoubtedly true; to reiterate, conversion 
is not unlike the experiences of every-day life. Mr. Leuba 
also suggests as an explanation of this phenomenon, changes 
in the physiological processes. He makes as a conjecture 
(and no one can do more than conjecture) the following: 

“We might rest content with the explanation that we have 


CONVERSION 240 


to do with an emotional delusion in which the affective state 
colours external sense impressions. . . . But we can perhaps 
make another suggestion, in this wise: The conversion crisis 
may be supposed to have for physiological counterpart a 
redistribution of energy involving general modifications of 
the association paths; or the alteration of rhythms, changing 
the nervous regimen. It is natural enough to admit that to a 
psychic turmoil so intense as that of conversion, corresponds 
a no less considerable physiological commotion setting up a 
new arrangement of the motor mechanism.’’? 

Numerous changes follow or accompany this feeling of 
newness. There is the sense of perceiving new truths. 
Things which have been hidden from the individual are 
now made plain. There is liable to be, however, an aston- 
ishing credulity at times largely on account of the uncritical 
condition of the convert, and the unity and simplicity of the 
whole mental life. The limitation of mentality causes the 
acceptance of almost anything that is suggested, particularly 
along the line of religion, and the more exaggerated it is the 
more acceptable it is with some. Later and calmer moments 
reveal the almost hypnotic credulity of some new converts. 

Persons who may be the embodiment of selfishness show 
a broadening of the horizon most plainly in this particular, 
and come into close sympathy witli the world outside. The 
convert feels himself to be a part of a wider life for which he 
must work, and for which he feels a great attachment. He 
is capable of remarkable self-sacrifice which may show it- 
self in connection with.the greater freedom, spoken of above, 
and may really be a large factor in bringing it about. 

Coupled with this, and what may seem at first to be a 
contradictory principle, is an awakening of self. The self- 
consciousness is magnified, and the convert feels his impor- 


1J. H. Leuba, A Study in the Psychology of Religious Phenomena, 
American Journal of Psychology, VII. 


250 CONVERSION 


tance. This does not take the form of being the centre of 
selfish activities, but of the advancement of the world along 
the road of righteousness. Manhood asserts itself; he is no 
longer held in bondage; he is master not servant, he is ruler 
not serf. One may easily see that the form of the awaken- 
ing of self does not minister to selfishness, but rather anni- 
hilates it. The lack of selfishness is noticed in the changed 
attitude toward family and friends. All the altruistic feel- 
ings and impulses are reinforced, the natural affections are 
stirred, and the duty to the state as well as that to the indi- 
vidual is recognized. 

A characteristic of the new life, we might say a part also 
of the conversion process, is a revival of cheerfulness, cour- 
age, and hope. This is closely connected with the feeling 
of newness. Just what form these post-crisis feelings will 
take depends on the temperament of the individual. The 
moral failures of the past are turned into successes and the 
future is bright and promising. The coward of yesterday is 
the hero of to-day, he fears neither men nor demons; he is 
strong in his newly found love and friendships, and unbroken 
in his determination and hope. These aspirations give him 
confidence in himself and he knows he can accomplish what 
before he thought impossible. He expects to do much good, 
and the expectancy with which he starts out is the harbinger 
of the result. This confidence which he has in himself is 
largely due to the anticipation of help from God, which help, 
according to his testimony, is duly provided. He expects 
to be guided in a manner which shall lead him away from 
temptation, and to be given strength to overcome sinful im- 
pulses; this he finds realized in his life. To say that this is 
suggestion is probably true, but to say that it is suggestion 
only, is doing violence to the united testimony of thousands 
whose evidence is as valuable as any in the land. 

One of the chief consequences of conversion, and what un- 


CONVERSION 251 


doubtedly seems the most miraculous one, is the complete 
annulling of the lower temptations. The fact is marvellous, 
but none the less true, as may be shown by references to 
many cases. In many incidents the temptation which has 
been the strongest and threatened to wreck the life, has been 
entirely eliminated and never appeared again. Three 
reasons may be given why conversion is such a potent factor 
in overcoming the grossest and most tenacious sins. In 
the first place and most important, it stimulates a real de- 
sire for reform. This is the sine qua non for overcoming 
any sin. This desire to be helped may well be classed as a 
part of conversion, but the part that is antecedent. In 
preaching and all religious teaching, motives for reform 
are prominent contents, and are very appropriate to those 
suffering from gross temptations. ‘Doubtless when there 
has been waywardness, and one has grown habitually sinful, 
the most efficacious way of rescue is to picture the fate of con- 
tinuance in sin, to throw the person back on himself, to lead him 
to see the blackness of sin as contrasted with the beauty of 
holiness, and make the break unavoidable, sharp, and final.’’? 

The second reason why conversion is so efficacious in 
overcoming temptation and sin is that after conversion the 
subjective and objective associations are changed. The 
convert has an entirely new set of friends and acquaintances, 
who have proved their friendship for him, and with them 
he spends every spare moment; their words and lives are a 
constant source of encouragement and strength to him. 
His leisure is spent either at church or some other religious 
gathering, in an endeavor to assist some one in the Christian 
life, or in some philanthropic work. All external associations 
have a tendency to assist rather than to hinder him. Add 
to this the power of subjective associations. His mind is 
no longer occupied with the thoughts of sin, but the events of 

1E. D. Starbuck, The Psychology of Religion, p. 88. 


252 CONVERSION 


the new experience fill his thoughts, and his work in and for 
the church leaves him no time to long for the “flesh pots of 
Egypt.” Associations objective and subjective are a con- 
stant assistance. 

The third reason is that religious conversion not only de- 
stroys the desire for sin, but it provides an emotional substi- 
tute. We must recognize that certain forms of sinful in- 
dulgence, alcoholic intoxication for instance, provide a 
pleasure which is intense in its nature. This is true of the 
pleasures of all the so-called lower passions, because of their 
being confined to one kind of expression which never va- 
ries; in addition to this the pleasure occupies but a small 
portion of the life. As far as intensity is concerned, re- 
ligion or any other form of the higher pleasures cannot, ex- 
cept under abnormal conditions, hope to vie with the lower 
ones. Wherein, then, does the religious life excel? Not 
in intensity, that is sure; but in extensity, this being true of 
the higher pleasures generally. There is no condition of life 
in which the religious pleasures cannot be realized, for re- 
ligious conversion embraces not one set of passions, but the 
whole man. Body and soul respond, the variation of ex- 
pression is endless, and all associations of the mind lead to 
the spiritual life. The idea of a religious faculty or sense 
having been abolished, it should be recognized that there 
is no experience so comprehensive in its scope as that of 
religion. Here we see that the “expulsive power of a new 
affection,’ * especially of a religious character, has its virtue 
in the fact that even if deficient in intensity as compared 
with the lower passions, it ministers to the whole man, and 
thus excels any other pleasure in extensity. 

In cases of sudden conversion the will has a real part, al- 
though at times it may be small. The volitional effort in the 
direction of the good influences all the other mental faculties, 


*See Thomas Chalmers’ sermon on this subject. 


CONVERSION 253 


and gives direction to the turn which the whole self is to 
take; consciously, as well as subconsciously, its work is 
valuable and shows in every part of the process. While 
some investigators, Ribot for example, give the will little or 
no part in the process, and liken conversion to a fixed idea 
or irresistible impulse, it certainly has a real work to do. 
Irresistible impulse and conversion are undoubtedly allied 
phenomena in some respects, but there is more conscious 
purpose and definite will displayed in conversion, and in 
the general processes there seems to be a well-defined line 
of demarcation. Subconscious processes are truly at work, 
but occasionally they rise into conscious will, which puts into 
action new forces tending to harmonize and readjust the 
old mental life. The will has its effect upon the subconscious 
process which, in turn, affects the will. The psychology of 
conversion cannot be understood without a recognition of 
the reciprocal action of these two factors. The conscious 
and subconscious factors rarely act separately in conversion, 
if they ever do. 

In the volitional type of conversion, the will is far more 
prominent, as the designation would imply. These cases are 
fought out rather than surrendered, and are therefore more 
gradual than the surrender type. There may be a com- 
bination of the two when the effort has been the cause of the 
subsequent awakening which has come to fructification 
subconsciously and suddenly. At any rate, while the ex- 
tremes of the two types are easily distinguished and classified, 
they tend to become indistinguishable in the milder cases. 
In addition to this we must recognize that it is not the presence 
of one factor and the absence of the other which are the stand- 
ard of division into the two types, but it is a matter of the per- 
centage of each which is the basis of classification, for in the 
volitional cases there is some surrender, and surrender cases 
are not devoid of volition. 


254 CONVERSION 


While we recognize these two main types, to neither of 
which a person completely conforms, we must also realize 
that some few persons are unable to fit into the conversion 
scheme at all on account of temperament, and either go 
through life without such experience, or else perhaps, through 
some sudden and unaccountable revulsion of temperament, 
come into the condition late in life, where it becomes a possi- 
bility. The important question from the standpoint of 
Christianity is not the method by which the result was brought 
about, but the character of the result attained. Some have 
reached their religious ideals through prosaic intellectual 
processes, as when one searched for intellectual consistency; 
others have found it through a clarification of the feelings. 
Whatever mental factors may be in use, the key-note is the 
union of the mind in its change, and growth from a life of 
self to one of service. Connected with the inquiry as to 
what was attained is the related question as to how long it 
lasts. The volitional type is undoubtedly more permanent, 
but the lasting quality of the self-surrender type depends on 
the circumstances connected with it, those cases resulting 
from the sensational revival being, as a rule, far less per- 
manent. It is noticeable that the idea of instantaneous con- 
version and that of final perseverance are paradoxical, but 
we recognize, of course, that conversion is but the beginning 
of the change which the final perseverance must consum- 
mate. ‘The germ of permanence should be in the conversion, 
else it is undoubtedly a failure. 

There seems to be not the least doubt that the subcon- 
sciousness is an important factor in the process of conver- ~ 
sion. ‘To say this is only to state a fact which confirms one 
of our main contentions, vz., that religion deals with the 
whole man; but to say that conversion has to deal with the 
subconscious only is to misrepresent the facts. With like 
stimuli it is known that persons react differently on account 


CONVERSION 256 


of the difference in the operation of their mental processes— 
in their temperaments, as we say. Persons who have sudden 
conversions have them rather than the gradual ones, not be- 
cause it just happens that way, but because they are so con- 
stituted that religious influences react in that way. If we 
know the person psychologically we can prophesy quite cor- 
rectly the type of his conversion, whether it be sudden or 
gradual, quiet or excited; this is simply saying that of con- 
version we may know scientific facts which admit of classi- 
fication. The divine element is not eliminated because we 
can do this; this has no bearing on the subject, for whether 
the power which causes conversion is autonomous or divine, 
it conforms to one type when it passes through one variety of 
mould. It is rather an argument for the divine element 
that it is orderly. 

Professor Coe has made the most exhaustive examina- 
tion of this subject of which I know. He gives three sets 
of factors favorable to the attainment of a striking, and 
therefore of a sudden, religious transformation. They are 
as follows: a certain temperament, expectation, and a ten- 
dency to automatisms and passive suggestibility. Given 
these three known quantities, the unknown, the type of 
conversion, can be predicted. In the cases which were thor- 
oughly examined, those who experienced a great transforma- 
tion, almost without exception, expected to change. Of 
these, 70 per cent. were of such a temperament that sensi- 
bility predominated, 12 per cent. had intellect in the ascen- 
dency, and 18 per cent, will. Further, of these, 82 per cent. 
were of sanguine or melancholic temperament. We there- 
fore see from these investigations that the temperament 
favorable to sudden or striking conversions is sanguine or 
melancholic, with sensibility predominating. The majority 
of these had-exhibited some automatic phenomena, as, e@. g., 
hallucinations, and these correspond almost exactly with 


256 CONVERSION 


the “passives” in hypnotic experiments. Of course, the 
number of cases examined was small, and necessarily so, 
on account of the thoroughness of the examination; and al- 
though there were too few to warrant us in making too sweep- 
ing a generalization, they correspond so closely with what 
we should naturally expect, that it must have considerable 
weight.’ 

The expectation factor is magnified when we consider 
that those who experience a striking conversion usually 
are found in churches where this is preached. For example, 
Wesley found that of his 652 followers in London every one 
had experienced a sudden and more or less striking change. 
Some other churches in London might have reported that 
of the same number of members not one had experienced 
this sudden change. ‘The difference would be in the diver- 
gent proclamations of the method of approach to God. 
The automatic phenomena may be of innumerable varieties, 
some of which we considered when studying revivals. One 
of the most frequent forms of sensory automatisms is called 
by the name of photism—an hallucinatory luminous phe- 
nomenon. This may take the form of a blinding flash, a 
brilliant, widely diffused light, or some luminous figure. 
The experiences of Paul, Constantine, and Finney are ex- 
amples of this.’ 

With the convert who has come into life in a sudden and 
abrupt way, the subconscious element in the process is un- 
doubtedly large. This is shown by the comparative scarcity 
or absence of the intellectual and volitional element at the 
time of the climax, and the inability of the convert to give his 
reasons for the change, the very little self-direction at the 
time, and the abruptness of the decision with few or no 
motives. Of what this process, this development, in the sub- 


1G. A. Coe, The Spiritual Life, pp. 109-150. 
?W. James, The Varieites of Religious Experience, pp. 251 ff. 


CONVERSION 257 


conscious area is, and its cause, we are entirely ignorant, 
and our guesses will depend upon our point of view. If 
there is a divine element in conversion it must come largely 
through the subconsciousness, and especially is this true in 
cases of sudden conversion. This being so, we must recog- 
nize a similarity between these cases and hypnotism, whether 
we wish to or not; in fact, some persons in relating their con- 
version experiences necessarily couple with them an hypnotic 
element, as e. g., “It seems to me now hypnotic.’”? 

There has been a great objection to this relationship 
among some religious people; not because they were in a 
position to confute the statement, but because they considered 
it detrimental to Christianity, on account of the ill-repute of 
hypnotism. On the other hand, because some persons, not 
particularly jealous for the good name of Christianity, have 
seen a relation between conversion and hypnotism, they have 
identified the two. The position which appeals to me is 
the mean; I recognize both the similarity and the difference. 
True, we see the almost total similarity in some revivals 
where methods are employed which a trained hypnotist 
might eschew; but it is unfair to class all conversions as 
revival conversions, or all revival conversions as of this ob- 
jectionable stamp. It is not the use but the abuse of the sug- 
gestive element in revivals which is objectionable. The same 
thing can be said of many other forces that are at times 
abused. For instance, there is a certain authority which re- 
ligion can justly claim on account of its nature; the use of 
this is justifiable, but.oh! what abuses have been wrought 
in its name. Mr. Granger says concerning hypnotism and 
conversion : 

‘‘We are now prepared to take up a topic referred to be- 
fore—conversion by hypnotic suggestion. The reader will 
perhaps remember that in other kinds of conversion there 

1E. D. Starbuck, The Psychology of Religion, p. 51. 


258 CONVERSION 


was a more or less prolonged period of preparation for the 
change, as the soul came to harmony of intellectual judgment, 
or to peace after stress. As against these modes, instan- 
taneous conversion seems explicable by saying that the mind 
is occupied by a suggestion when it is in a suggestible state 
—when, that is, it is subject to neurasthenia. It is fortunate, 
of course, that the same nervous weakness which lays a man 
open to control by passing impulses should now and then 
subject him to a good impulse; but this weakness is not a 
normal state, and there is something inexpressibly repulsive 
in the idea that the religious life should necessarily begin 
in this way. Jesus did not so view conversion.”’* 

I do not feel the same repulsion concerning the matter 
which Mr. Granger apparently does. If, as some would have 
it, the hypnotic or suggestive element were eliminated, re- 
ligion would lose thereby. We do not recognize the part 
which the subconsciousness plays in our every-day life, or we 
should see that to eliminate this would be to confine religion 
to a lesser part of man’s nature, instead of its holding its 

" present important position of affecting the whole man, 
conscious and subconscious. If this is a weakness, as Mr. 
Granger says, it is a weakness which he shares with the rest 
of mankind, for no one is free from it; and however much it 
may be deprecated, its importance in the mental processes 
is profound. 

If it is true that when God works directly in man He 
works through the subconsciousness, these subconscious 
factors should be lauded rather than deprecated. Further, 
the wisdom of having these subconscious factors so prominent 
in conversion is apparent, because of the greater stability 
of the change thereby. Were it simply in the mental and 
not deeply rooted in the physical, the passing change of cir- 
cumstances would bring about a corresponding change in 

1F. Granger, The Soul of a Christian, p. 117. 


CONVERSION 259 


the desires, and what promised to become a permanent 
change, would be temporary only. Here is to be found the dis- 
tinction between the purely hypnotic pseudo-conversion, and 
the real conversion. When the subject awakes he wonders 
what it all meant, and laughs at the part he played in the 
revival; or else it may last for a week or a month and then 
fade away. But the true conversion takes a permanent 
hold of the whole man. Nor can I agree with Mr. Granger 
that Jesus did not recognize, or at least use, the subconscious 
elements in both conversion and the cures performed by 
Him. 

Early in this chapter it was said that little could be defi- 
nitely stated concerning the divine element in conversion, 
since by its nature it could not be scientifically analyzed. 
But because we cannot analyze it, it does not follow that it 
is unreasonable to believe in it. We can do no better at this 
point than to present two brief quotations from Professor 
James. 

“To plead the organic causation of the religious state of 
mind, then, in refutation of its claim to possess superior 
spiritual value, is quite illogical and arbitrary, unless one 
have already worked out in advance some psycho-physical 
theory connecting spiritual values in general with determi- 
nate sorts of physiological change. Otherwise none of our 
thoughts and feelings, not even our scientific doctrines, nor 
even our dis-beliefs, could retain any value as revelations of 
the truth, for every one of them without exception flows from 
the state of their possessor’s body at the time.” 

“Psychology and religion are both in perfect harmony 
up to this point, since both admit that there are forces seem- 
ingly outside of the conscious individual that bring redemp- 
tion to his life. Nevertheless psychology, defining these 
forces as ‘subconscious,’ and speaking of their effect as due 
to ‘incubation’ or ‘cerebration,’ implies that they do not 


260 CONVERSION 


transcend the individual’s personality; and herein she diverges 
from Christian theology, which insists that they are direct 
supernatural operations of the Deity.’” 

The mistake is frequently made of holding that, if we have 
explained the way in which the mind operates in conversion, 
we have thereby eliminated the supernatural—or rather we 
should say, the divine element. As well might we say when 
we have described a law of nature, we have proved therefore 
that nature requires no power to operate the elements which 
conform to this law, simply because we know how it is oper- 
ated; or that when we know how the machine works, it 
therefore needs no power to operate it. Pfleiderer, from the 
standpoint of philosophy, speaks very decidedly as follows: 

“This wonderful change is not arbitrarily brought about 
by man himself, but experienced as a thing that has happened 
to him; it appears to him as the operation of a higher power, 
as the gift of undeserved divine favor or grace. And is 
this not in truth the case? Careful thought, in fact, can do 
nothing but confirm what the believer holds as a truth re- 
quiring no proof.’ 

To the person experiencing conversion it seems as though 
some power, quite different from any ordinary experience, 
came into the life. But is this so? The testimony of the 
converted person, even admitting that it is not always the 
best, ought to be worth more than the opinion of one who 
is unfamiliar with religious experience and simply theorizes 
concerning it. In most cases the feeling is that this is an 
external power, a testimony of experience directly opposed 
to the psychological theory, as we may call it. Again recog- 
nizing the objection of so many persons being unable to read 
aright their psychical experiences, yet there is no testimony 
to the contrary, and the experience of those who witness con- 


1W. James, The Varieties of Religious Experience, pp. 14 and 211. 
*Q. Pfleiderer, The Philosophy of Religion, IV, p. 128. 


CONVERSION 261 


cerning it is more valuable than the theories of others. 
Those who claim that conversion is a direct act will find it 
admissible from the psychological standpoint, especially if 
they hold to the theory that God works directly on man 
through the subconsciousness. 


CHAPTER XIX 
AGE 


‘‘A man loves the meat in his youth that he cannot endure in his age.” 
—SHAKESPEARE. 


In discovering that children are not little men or women, 
we have found that religion cannot be presented to them in 
the same way that it can to adults, and produce the best 
results. The juvenile type of Christianity must, therefore, 
differ from the adult and adolescent types. What this differ- 
ence shall be is determined by the difference between the 
mind of the child and that of the adolescent or adult. We 
can no longer respond to a demand for the same type of 
religion for all ages, nor is the difference to be simply that 
the child religion is to be an incomplete and imperfect phase 
of that which is to occupy the mind when he matures; but it 
must be the natural expression of the child’s mind according 
to its way of functioning. We have every reason to think 
that the religious impulse develops as naturally in the child 
life as the social impulse, and that careful nurture is the most 
important factor in dealing with children if we wish to aid in 
a decision for righteousness and church membership at an 
early age—probably in early adolescence. Our aid should 
be not so much to inform as to guide, for growth rather than 
learning is required in early childhood. 

If the past has taught us nothing else it has furnished us 
with some ‘‘horrible examples,” and shown us very plainly 
what not todo. A few of these may be negatively instructive. 


Rev. Carlton Hurd, a stalwart New England divine who 
262 : 


AGE 263 


lived about a century ago, has given us a spiritual biography 
of his daughter, Marion Lyle Hurd, who was supplied with 
an orthodox and plenary religious experience at a tender age. 

“Marion died at the age of four years. When she was eight . 
months old her parents read to her from leaflets for Sab- 
bath-schools. They explained to her when she was a year 
and a half old, in answer to questions from her, the origin 
and use of the Bible. They noted that when she had reached 
the age of two she was ‘seriously exercised with religious 
things.’ At that time she would sometimes kneel down 
and would say: 

“Mother, Iam going to pray. What shall I say to God?’ 

*** Ask God to make you good and give you a new heart.’ 

*** What is a new heart, mother?’ 

“This was familiarly explained,’ writes her father, ‘and 
at the same time she was particularly informed of the way 
of salvation by Jesus Christ, and the steps God had taken 
to save sinners. We endeavored to impress upon her mind 
that she was a sinner and needed forgiveness, and God would 
forgive her sins and give her a new heart through Jesus 
Christ.’ That from this time ‘she chiefly devoted her few 
remaining days to the acquisition of religious knowledge,’ 
her father finds to be a ‘consoling reflection.’ He adds, 
with conscientious caution, ‘If she was truly converted, we 
cannot tell when the change took place.’ Her parents 
hoped, however, after she had died two years later, that she 
had ‘entered the city of our God.’ Though they had no 
means of perceiving the approach of the disease of the brain 
which occasioned her death, they realized that the sensitive- 
ness and activity of her mind warned them ‘to lead Marion 
with the gentlest hand, to make her way as quiet and even 
as possible.’ In this third year the books which were read 
to her included Parley’s Geography and Astronomy, Gal. 
laudet’s Child’s Book of the Soul, and Daily Food for Chris- 


264 AGE 


tians. In her fourth year her books, which she read to her- 
self, were, besides the Bible, Child’s Book on Repentance, 
Life of Moses, Family Hymns, Union Hymns, Daily Food, 
Lessons for Sabbath-Schools, H enry Milnor, Watts’s Divine 
Songs, Nathan W. Dickerman, Memoir of John Mooney 
Mead, Todad’s Lectures to Children, and Pilgrim’s Progress. 
As these titles indicate she was ‘particularly fond of reading 
the biography of good little children.’ Of all her books, 
however, Bunyan’s masterpiece seems to have been the most 
instructive. Her knowledge of the allegory was tested by 
questions. She knew why Christian went through the river 
while Ignorance was ferried over. She knew what was meant 
by the Slough of Despond and the losing of the Burden. 
‘When we come to Christ,’ said she, ‘we’ (not Christians, 
or people, or you, but we) ‘lose our sins.’ And she sought 
from her father a certificate to enter the City. ‘We cannot | 
doubt,’ comments her father, ‘Marion understood much 
of what was intended to be taught in that book, which 
Phillip says, in his life of John Bunyan, contains the essence 
of all theology. Certainly she was familiar with every step of 
the pathway of holiness trod by Christian, from the city 
of Destruction through the river of death to the Celestial 
City.’ And later, he adds that she evinced ‘a familiar 
acquaintance with all parts of that allegory and its doctrines.’ 
Though he makes clear in his letter that ‘it is not the piety 
of the full-grown and mature Christian that we are to look 
for in a child,’ he makes equally clear that in all essential 
particulars her piety was complete. It included even a re- 
gard for the significance of eternal reward and penalty. 
From Doddridge’s Expositor, both by examining the pictures 
and reading ‘the sacred text,’ under the direction of her 
father, she derived many ideas of the crucifixion and resur- 
rection of Jesus; and the general resurrection at the end of 
the world. ‘Marion,’ continues the narrative, ‘after closely 


AGE 265 


inspecting the countenances given in those pictures, both to 
the just and unjust, in the resurrection would say: 

“Oh! how the wicked look when they rise from the dead!’ 
adding in a serious and solemn manner, 


“There is a dreadful hell, 
And everlasting pains, 
Where sinners must with devils dwell, 
In darkness, fire, and chains.’ 


“Indeed, from the earlier months, life after death, ‘the 
happiness of the good and the misery of the wicked,’ were top- 
ics of ‘frequent and delightful conversation with her parents.’ 

“In her last hours she expressed her assurance that she 
would be saved, and her last audible words were, ‘I am not 
afraid to die.’ Thus ended this brief life of four years and 
twenty-six days.’”* 

When some of Jonathan Edwards’ ministerial contempo- 
raries expostulated with him about throwing children into 
paroxysms of fear with talk about hell fire and eternal 
damnation, he thought them weak. ‘But if those who com- 
plain so loudly of this,’’ he remarks, ‘‘really believe, what is 
the general profession of the country, vzz., that all are by 
nature the children of wrath and heirs of hell; and that every 
one who has not been born again, whether he be young or old, 
is exposed, every moment, to eternal destruction, under the 
wrath of Almighty God; I say, if they really believe this, then 
such a complaint and cry as this betrays a great deal of 
weakness and inconsideration. As innocent as children 
seem to be to us, yet, if they are out of Christ, they are not 
so in God’s sight, but are young vipers, and are infinitely 
more hateful than vipers, and are in a most miserable con- 
dition, as well as grown persons.” 


1—E. H. Abbot, “On the Training of Parents,’ The Outlook, 
LXXXVIII, p. 547 }. 


266 AGE 


The following is an account of how a French priest, Curate 
of Notre-Dame-du-Mont, prepared children for confirma- 
tion and first communion. ‘On the last day of a ‘retreat’ 
he would lock the doors of the church in which the children 
were assembled and forbid even the sexton to walk about. 
The church was then darkened. A pall, stretched out before 
the sanctuary, bore a crucifix and two holy candles. In 
this artfully prepared place he would preach a sixty minutes’ 
discourse on Christ’s Passion, describing with minute real- 
ism every detail of the crucifixion, the thorns penetrating 
into the flesh, the blood trickling down the face, the moral 
anguish of the loving Savior. Before he was half through 
the sermon, sobs would break out and spread among the 
terrified children. In this state they were sent to confession.””* 

In a collection of hymns for children, published in 1852, 
we find the following: 


“Little children stop and think! 
Turn away from ruin’s brink!” 


Another hymn in this collection, entitled ‘‘ Motives to Early 
Piety,” gives some idea of the former religious teaching of 
children. It is as follows: 


‘Almighty God, thy piercing eye 
Strikes through the shades of night, 
And our most secret actions lie 
All open to thy sight. 


“There’s not a sin that we commit, 
Or idle word we say, 
But in thy dreadful book ’tis writ, 
Against the judgment day. 


1These last two quotations are from J. H. Leuba, ‘Fear and Awe 
in Religion,” American Journal of Religious Psychology and Educa- 
tion, II, p. 6 f. 


AGE | 267 


“And must the crimes that I have done 
Be read and published there? 
Be all exposed before the sun, 
While men and angels hear? 


“Lord, at thy foot ashamed I lie, 
Upward I dare not look, 
Pardon my sins before I die, 
And blot them from thy book!’ 


I wish it were possible to say that trying to scare children 
into accepting adult religion ended with Jonathan Edwards, 
or even a half century ago, but unhappily this is not so. 
The so-called doctrine of “original sin” has been a sweet 
morsel in the mouths of many pastors and most revivalists. 
No child is too young to be a willing servant of the devil, 
and conversion of the adult type is the only cure, according 
to these soul physicians. Notice the following: 

“T may just mention, that as this talk was going on, there 
was a little boy in the corner of the room, so little a fellow 
that he had just emerged from the condition of petticoats, 
and had not reached the dignity of a jacket; his whole cos- 
tume being in one piece from his neck to his heels. He 
was standing in the corner of the room and sobbing very hard. 
The only idea that came into my mind was that the little 
fellow was sleepy, and that he wanted to go home, as it was 
now about ten o’clock. I said to one of the girls that he 
was wearied, and that some one had better take him home. 
She said, ‘Oh, no, sir; he is not wearied, he is greetin’ about 
his sins.’ I went to the little fellow, and I spoke to him; 
however, he was really past speaking to. He was in a state of 
great distress, whatever was the cause. I said to one of the 
girls, ‘Perhaps you could speak to him better than I could’; 
and she replied, ‘Well, yes, sir; I will speak to him, but he 


1 Quoted by G. A. Coe, The Religion of a Mature Mind, p. 314 f. 


268 AGE 


does not belong to this place.’ I said, ‘Indeed!’ ‘No, 
puir fellow; he has walked all the way frae Prestonpans 
to-night.’ Now this was a dark, wintry night, and yet this 
little creature had walked, by himself, about four miles, 
to get to the Meeting. I asked about him the last time I was 
out. The little girl told me that she believed he was going 
on in the right way.” 

‘““A few days ago I found a little boy, about eight years of 
age, in one of these seats at the children’s inquiry meeting, 
sobbing aloud. Said I, 

‘“What’s the matter, my dear little fellow ?’ 

“Oh, dear! I’m lost! I’m lost! and I can’t find 
Jesus! Oh! my wicked heart! How can I get a new heart? 
I have been so wicked! I have never loved Jesus at all! 
I thought I loved Him, but now I know I neverdid. Will 
He take mers cnc. 

‘“‘T have no doubt some of the parents here to-day scarcely 
believe that their children are at enmity with the gracious 
Saviour; perhaps they have never found out by experience 
that the Bible is true, when it says, ‘The heart is deceitful 
above all things and desperately wicked.’ I pray that they 
may learn, as many of you have learnt, that it is a very wicked 
thing not to love that dear Jesus who ‘first loved us.’ Here 
is a letter from a little boy whom I found, in a children’s 
inquiry meeting in Brooklyn, weeping and asking how he 
could get a new heart. He says, ‘I thought I loved Jesus, 
but I found I was a great sinner.’”’* 

One source of fallacy is the fact that primitive Christianity 
consisted in adult conversion, and the supposition was that 
the modus operandi was the same in old and young. Jesus 
put adults and children into two distinct classes, and em- 


1E. P. Hammond, The Conversion of Children, pp. 9 and 76 }.; 
many similar cases might be quoted from this and a companion book 
by the same author, Early Conversion. 


AGE 269 


phatically said that adults were so different that they would 
have to become as children to be converted. We are coming 
to Jesus’ position again now through the sciences of pedagogy 
and psychology. We recognize that young children are neither 
good nor bad, and that activity is not sin. With proper 
training, the natural development is toward righteousness. 
If religion is an instinct peculiar to man, which, on account of 
an inward power, develops progressively, then the child grows 
into a religious being as he does into asocial being. All nor- 
mal religious development, however, is dependent upon a nor- 
mal physical and psychical development. When children, 
through training, are permitted to develop naturally, the 
only conversion possible is that from God to the devil; 
people who want their children converted are either con- 
demning their training or else asking for a conversion to evil. 
“Total depravity” and ‘‘original sin” are relics of the dark 
ages before we knew God, yet how tenaciously we cling to 
them! It is so much easier to blame God for our children’s 
deformed characters than it is to acknowledge our incorrect 
training. 

The trouble is that parents and teachers do not yet know 
what to expect from children in respect to religion. They 
try to teach what they hope will produce paroxysms of re- 
pentance, cataclysmal conversion, precocious prayer-meet- 
ing talk, and cant prayer—anything which will be an imi- 
tation of adult religion. Look at Paul’s words which are 
equally true of child individuals or races. ‘‘And I, breth- 
ren, could not speak unto you as unto spiritual, but as unto 
carnal, as unto babes in Christ. I fed you with milk, not 
with meat; for ye were not able to bear it; nay, nor even 
now are ye able.” Milk not meat; it matters not how at- 
tractively we may be able to prepare the latter, it is meat 
just the same, and indigestion and injury inevitably follow. 

“When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I felt as a child, 


270 AGE 


I thought asa child.” If this is true of all children they must 
be treated according to childish characteristics. Train- 
ing in the good life which shall later be consummated, 
cultivating the roots in order that in the natural process of 
growth the flower may be more beautiful and the fruit more 
perfect, is the secret of the religious education of childhood— 
or any other childhood education for that matter. If we 
would not try to give children their theology ready made, 
but let them make their own, much trouble would be saved 
them both now and later. The Bible as literature, not dogma, 
could not help being exceedingly attractive to children, and 
no doubt of the beautiful stories which the Bible holds for 
them would be suggested or entertained, any more than for 
the great classics in which they delight and which they so 
readily accept. 

Roughly speaking, life may be divided into three periods, 
viz., childhood under twelve years of age, adolescence from 
twelve to twenty-four, and adult over twenty-four. For 
each period the presentation and material of religion must 
be different. Each period has its own method of thought and 
reaction. Let us first look at the religion of childhood. 
Of course, we must recognize that what follows is supposed 
to be general, but that in real life we find no “children in 
general” or “‘‘average children.” No child will conform 
exactly to the description, and if he did the description would 
be faulty. Each child is a separate problem. Faculties 
develop unevenly, some slowly, some quickly, some prema- 
turely, some late. 

Childhood may be divided into four equal periods of three 
years each. In fact, this is the division in our Sunday 
Schools to-day. In the first period, that of infancy, little 
definite religious training is possible, but the danger is that 
parents may begin their training too late. Some habits, not 
definitely religious, but which have a strong religious bear- 


AGE 271 


ing later, may be instilled, such as that of obedience. The 
first six years of life is the period of greatest physical 
activity, during which a child learns as many new things 
as he does during all the remainder of his life. He is a 
bundle of instincts and impulses, chief of which are restless- 
ness, curiosity, imitation, credulity, love, fear, and wonder. 
His ideas are concrete, naive, and usually, visual—he gets 
his knowledge through his senses almost entirely. 

While all things concerning him are important, his credulity 
and concreteness may be especially noticed. He does not 
discriminate, he is not critical, everything is accepted by 
him as true; this trait is also carried largely through the next 
period. Every truth is based on the word of parents or 
Sunday-school teachers, and everything he sees or hears 
is accepted. ‘The questioning spirit which is the breaking 
up of this credulity starts shortly after eight with most chil- 
dren, but does not reign until nearly the tenth year. The 
inability to handle mental experiences in an abstract way 
is also characteristic of the following period, so that these 
two traits may be handled together for both periods. 

Perhaps the best comprehension of these can be gathered 
from the ideas of God which are held by children from three 
to nine years of age. Let me present a few examples out of 
many available. ‘“‘We mustn’t make faces at the Heaven- 
Man. He will spank us; won’t he?” ‘God lives up in 
Heaven and takes care of us all the time, especially at night.” 
“‘God can see everything you do and everything you say, 
even if you are inside a house.” ‘I fancied God to be an 
enlarged father. He was tall and massive, with a benig- 
nant face, long whiskers, and long white hair, and wore a 
hat usually of straw.” ‘A great policeman peering around 
to see what I was at, and would punish me for misdeeds.” 
John Fiske’s experience may be taken as typical. He says, 
“T remember distinctly the conception which I had formed 


272 AGE 


when five years of age. I imagined a narrow office just 
over the zenith, with a tall standing-desk running lengthwise, 
upon which lay several open ledgers bound in coarse leather. 
There was no roof over this office, and the walls rose scarcely 
five feet from the: floor, so that a person standing at the 
desk could look out upon the whole world. There were 
two persons at the desk, and one of them—a tall, slender 
man, of aquiline features, wearing spectacles, with a pen 
in his hand and another behind his ear—was God. The 
other, whose appearance I do not distinctly recall, was an 
attendant angel. Both were diligently watching the deeds 
of men and recording them in the ledgers. To my infant 
mind this picture was not grotesque, but ineffably solemn, 
and the fact that all my words and acts were thus written 
down, to confront me at the day of judgment, seemed natu- 
rally a matter of grave concern.”* ‘The same credulity and 
concreteness might be shown by presenting children’s 
words portraying their ideas of the devil, immortality, heaven, 
hell, angels, etc. 

From six to nine the imagination is very vivid and prom- 
inent and should then be made use of; this is also a good time 
to cultivate the emotions, as e. g., a love for parents, God, 
and truth. All good actions may then be crystallized into 
habits. 

From nine to twelve, sometimes called Prepubescence, 
considerable takes place in the individual. The intellect 
develops rapidly and there is an enlargement of capacity, 
knowledge, thinking, and planning. It is at this age that 
misdeeds may properly be called sins. The ability of a child 
is then usually underestimated. Memory is then active, 
in fact, this is the most receptive period. The child ques- 
tions things; the age of uncritical credulity is past, and a lik- 
ing for reality appears, in contrast to the former imaginative 

1 J. Fiske, The Idea of God, p. 116. 


AGE 2773 


period. It is at this period that exact statements are often 
eschewed, and what is said is prefaced by, ‘“‘I think,” “‘It 
is my opinion,” “They say,” etc. This may be due to a 
morbid conscientiousness, the person being afraid that he 
might tell a lie. Facts and the relation of things take his 
attention. He demands justice and has a great respect for 
law; he is also acquisitive, and rivalry is strong at this age. 

I have, very incompletely, enumerated the chief character- 
istics of the different divisions of childhood, and now wish 
to make a few general deductions concerning childhood in 
general. Many religious tenets are taken for granted. 
There is no question about the being of God, but simply an 
effort to conceive of Him. Prayer and other religious duties 
are carried on without a knowledge of their full significance, 
but the value of these habits to the future religious life can- 
not be overestimated. Notwithstanding the anthropo- 
morphic, concrete, materialistic, and credulous attitude of 
mind exhibited in children, it is profitable to teach them 
religion, and especially so if we recognize the kind which is 
most acceptable to them, and which may be a foundation 
upon which the later life may be built. Not only children 
but adults find it difficult to escape anthropomorphism, yet 
we do not deny the latter religion. 

A religion fitted to each form of development not only 
assists the individual to pass from one stage of growth to the 
next, but gives a basis for the next stage to grow upon. 
Care must be taken, however, not to make statements which 
will afterward have to be denied, even if they do seem to fit 
into a particular stage of development, or if they have moral 
objects in view. This will inevitably lead to doubt. A 
boy was reproved by his grandmother for neglecting to say 
his prayers the night before, and she concluded by saying, 
‘“‘God won’t take care of you if you don’t.” ‘To which the 
boy replied, ‘‘ Well, He did.”” Doubt may also be inspired 


274 AGE 


by making statements about God which are contrary to the 
child’s growing conceptions of justice and goodness. 

In a study of the different stages of religious development 
of the individual, one finds two interesting comparisons. 
The first is that in general the development of the child 
religion corresponds with that of the race. We have the 
analogy of the physical. That the body in embryo passes 
through the various stages of development through which 
the lower forms of physical life evolved, is but an axiom of 
embryology. ‘The same general rule seems to hold good for 
the religious development of childhood, if not for the general 
childhood mental development. The second comparison 
is equally interesting. ‘The chronological order of the books 
of our Bible corresponds also with the childhood develop- 
ment. This would naturally follow from the former compari- 
son. Notice, if you will, that the earlier books are somewhat 
mythological, then come the historical, then the imagina- 
tive literature of the poets and prophets; the ethics of the 
New Testament are next in order, and finally the doctrinal 
ideas as found in the New Testament epistles. This com- 
parison, of course, takes us further than childhood, and is 
rather an epitome of the whole individual religious life. In 
the main, though, the development is from the concrete, 
tangible, and visible, to the abstract, intangible, and invis- 
ible.* 

The term Adolescence has a rather indefinite meaning, 


1 For a detailed study of the religion of childhood consult E. Barnes, 
“Theological Life of a California Child,’ Pedagogical Seminary, II; 
H. W. Brown, “Thoughts and Reasonings of Children,” Pedagogical 
Seminary, II; G. S. Hall, ‘The Contents of Children’s Minds,” Peda- 
gogical Seminary, I; J. Sully, Studies of Childhood; M. W. Shinn, 
“Some Comments on Babies,” Overland Monthly, 2d Series, XXIII; 
J. R. Street, “The Religion of Childhood,” Homiletic Review, LV; 
J. B. Pratt, The Psychology of Religious Belief, pp. 200-212, as well as 
an increasingly large literature devoted to Sunday-school pedagogy. 


AGE 275 


but is used to designate a period of the life of every individual 
generally bounded by the years twelve and twenty-five. 
It starts with the beginning of puberty and ends with settled 
young manhood and womanhood. It was formerly considered 
a physical phenomenon, but the mental characteristics of 
adolescence are far more startling and equally important 
to the individual and the race. The body and mind develop 
contemporaneously and reciprocally; the idea held by many 
that this is a purely physical change which causes a corre- 
sponding mental upheaval, is incorrect. In females, ado- 
lescence begins one or two years earlier than in males and 
ends sooner. In general, adolescence may be bounded in 
females by the years eleven and twenty-one, and in males by 
twelve or thirteen and twenty-five. This is general only, 
and individuals differ greatly. There is also a marked 
difference in races, as much as two or three years in the aver- 
age of both boys and girls between the extremes. 

Adolescence has been divided into three periods, first, 
II-15 in females, 12-16 in males; second, 15-17 in females, 
16-18 in males; third, 17-21 in females, 18-24 in males. 
These three stages may be termed early or ferment stage, 
middle or crisis stage, and later or reconstruction stage. 
These are more or less arbitrary divisions. Some affirm 
that physical adolescence begins before the mental, and others 
that the opposite is true; we shall probably not make much 
mistake in thinking of them as contemporaneous. 

So much has been written in late years and so careful 
has the description of the adolescent period been, that to 
give even a brief résumé of the mental characteristics of 
the different stages would consume more space than could be 
allowed. This is especially true since the literature of 
adolescence is so easy of access. We will content ourselves 
with endeavoring to outline the religious significance of this 
age. 


276 AGE 


The adolescent period is the time of the greatest upheaval 
and change in life; in every respect it is a second birth. Ow- 
ing to this marked change in every department of life, it is 
the natural time for the spiritual second birth. Experience 
has shown that what we affirm theoretically is true practi- 
cally. This new meaning and mystery of life in adolescence 
tend to bring in a new and distinct epoch in religious experi- 
ence. There is a. real departure from the little, dependent, 
irresponsible animal self, into the larger, independent re- 
sponsible, outreaching, and upreaching moral life of man- 
hood and womanhood. 

With boys, this is more apt to be associated with doubt; 
with girls, with times of storm and stress. With boys the 
crisis is more liable to come when alone, with girls in a church 
service; but however it appears, come it will. One great 
service which Starbuck has rendered to us is in showing us 
the close parallel between the conversion of young people 
brought up among evangelical surroundings, and the spon- 
taneous growth into a larger religious experience which is a 
normal phase of adolescence in every class of human beings, 
Christian or pagan. They come about the same time and 
with similar symptoms. The age is somewhere between 
thirteen and seventeen, differing slightly with males and fe- 
males, the females developing younger.’ Spontaneous awak- 
enings come entirely independent of revival or special ex- 
ternal pressure, and may be just as sudden and accompanied 
by just as strange phenomena as conversions. The con- 
clusion seems inevitable that conversion is a normal adoles- 
cent phenomenon, a part of or result of the passage from 
childhood to maturity—a part of the new birth of the self. 


1 Those interested in a statistical inquiry regarding the age of con- 
version may consult G. A. Coe, The Spiritual Life, p. 45; E. D. Star- 
buck, The Psychology of Religion, p. 33; G. S. Hall, Adolescence, II, 
pp. 288-291. 


AGE 277 


But we must not infer that every one is to experience con- 
version, even with religious influences surrounding him. 
Childhood training and temperament may be such that a 
crisis is avoided, or even with new religious impulses a de- 
cision for righteousness may not be made. Adolescence is 
the normal time for conversion, if that is necessary; but with 
some individuals through arrested development or incorrect 
development it is misplaced, and it or spontaneous awaken- 
ing does not come, regardless of the occasion, until later in 
life. Starbuck’ gives one case as late as fifty-five. On the 
other hand, it is as useless as it is foolish to try to prevent 
a change in religious ideas from those of childhood, but the 
adolescent may be very suggestible regarding the form 
which the change will take and the manner in which it 
will come. 

Religion of all forms has taken advantage of adolescence, 
and by judicious management has used it for the decisive 
time for the individual.? This is true of all branches of 
Christianity also, for while evangelistic churches have 
laid emphasis on adolescence as the age of conversion, 
the ritualistic churches have emphasized this time for 
confirmation and first communion. Coe calls attention to 
the fact that there is a second time of awakening fol- 
lowing conversion, called by the individuals by some such 
name as sanctification or perfect consecration, which may 
make itself felt at thirteen, more strongly at seventeen, and 
reaches a maximum at twenty, after which it rapidly de- 
clines.® 

Religious awakenings of adolescence may come in all 


1E. D. Starbuck, The Psychology of Religion, p. 203. 

*See A. H. Daniels, ‘“‘The New Life,” American Journal of Psy- 
chology, VI, pp. 61, et. seq. 

3G. A. Coe, The Spiritual Life, p. 46; compare E. D. Starbuck, 
The Psychology of Religion, pp. 205 ff. 


278 AGE 


sorts of ways. Far from there being any rule, we had better 
say that no two persons’ experiences are the same. Very 
frequently they are undoubtedly the result of subconscious 
forces. Notice the following: “At fourteen I became a 
Christian. Ican give no cause of the change. I then seemed 
to realize for the first time all the truths that had been pre- 
sented before.” ‘“‘OQne young lady relates that, at the age 
of fourteen while she was walking in a neighbour’s garden, 
suddenly the thought came to her that she had passed from 
death unto life. There were no especial emotional manifesta- 
tions, yet this event she has always looked upon as a decisive 
' one.” It may be that the ordinary church services assume 
new meaning and importance, or that a word in a sermon or 
an experience of years before suddenly becomes the key-note 
of a vital and vivid experience. 

At other times (seasons of storm and stress are a natural 
part of adolescence) conversion is preceded by a sense of sin 
similar to that already described in the preceding chapter, 
including helplessness, depression, anxieties, fears, and 
doubts, sometimes accompanied by bodily affections. Even 
without conversion these phenomena may be present; the 
whole process may be experienced and only the conversion 
factor be lacking. In connection with seasons of stress the 
characteristic mental differences of sex will probably come 
to the surface. 

From twelve to fifteen, during early adolescence, is the 
most critical age, the critical spirit culminating at about 
fourteen. ‘This is followed by diminishing critical activity, 
especially on religious questions. The criticism is based 
on a very high standard; nothing but absolute truth will 
satisfy the adolescent. There can be no compromise, and 
no argument can effect a compromise. Nothing less than 
absolutely right conduct can be right at all; what others call 
prudence, he calls disloyalty to principle. In his frequent 


AGE 279 


arguments he gives no quarter, and every thing must be 
four-square, or condemnation is inevitable. He has lofty 
ideals and high ambitions, and he deals in superlatives only. 
After two or three years, about the period of middle adoles- 
cence, the critical spirit is quiescent; about the beginning of 
later adolescence it again appears, but not in so intense a 
form. 

Connected with this critical attitude, contemporaneous 
with it, and as a result of it, comes doubt. Doubt is constitu- 
tional, must be looked for and dealt with, not as a crime 
but more as a disease. Shepherding care is needed at no 
other time so much as during doubting seasons. Patience 
and sympathetic explanation must be given. This doubt 
is born of an attempt at rational explanation; when a cor- 
rect adjustment of relations is made, doubt vanishes. With 
the greatest care it is probable that it cannot be entirely 
eliminated, as a certain amount during adolescence seems 
to be normal. Over two-thirds of Starbuck’s respondents 
experienced a season of doubt, and Hall reports from the 
examination of over seven hundred cases of young men re- 
ligiously reared in Protestant colleges, that there were very 
few who had not wrestled with serious doubts, some so 
serious indeed as to drive the doubters to suicide. 

While doubt is a part of adolescent phenomena, yet it is oc- 
casioned by a rebellion against authority—an independent 
attitude toward all things; by a re-examination of the bases 
of beliefs; and by the height of critical standards. The 
doubts may continue to the end of adolescence, but should 
be dissipated before this time. At any rate, they seldom last 
beyond thirty. Some accept a basis of authority, being 
weary of the struggle, others find a refuge in argument or 
reasoning, while still others lose their doubts almost imper- 
ceptibly by the quiet, unobtrusive development of some 
experience or belief. 


280 AGE 


There is some difference of opinion as to the need of ex- 
periencing this doubting, stormy period. That it is present 
with us now all agree, but Coe, for instance, opines that 
while the ground is ripe for it in the peculiar nervous con- 
ditions of adolescence, the seeds which produce it are the 
modern conditions of life, which put such a burden on the ado- 
lescent, and the religious training of the home and the church. 
Whatever the cause, we know that it complicates the relig- 
ious conditions, for the adolescent must make his own 
religion; dogmatic statements, even of the least objectionable 
kind, are subjected to a keen criticism, and all the more so be- 
cause of the dogmatism. ‘The best one can do is to skilfully 
suggest, and the adolescent rejects or admits at his pleasure. 
He is liable to want more information than he can compre- 
hend, and is, therefore, satisfied with much less than he 
asked for. , 

The adolescent’s criticism never ends with doctrines and 
companions, but his strict sense of justice causes him to be 
as severe on himself as on any one, yes, at times, more severe. 
A most exacting and unreasonable conscientiousness is 
developed, and is merciless in its demands.* Afraid of 
telling a lie he safeguards every sentence, every act is meas- 
ured by some rule which he applies in the most absurd fashion; 
foolish vows are made and extravagant actions are performed 
to conform to the vows. Self-sacrifice in an unostentatious 
way may rival that of the Middle Ages. At times the con- 
science becomes hyperesthetic and morbid, although the 
dividing line between the normal and abnormal is not easy 
to trace in adolescence. Here, a girl would not take a pin 
without asking; or another must say ‘‘Thank you” for 
every flower of a large bunch which was placed in her 
hand one by one; or a young man must pull up every 


*G. A. Coe, The Spiritual Life, pp. 67-103, deals very intelligently 
with adolescent difficulties. 


AGE 281 


weed, or get off the binder and procure every missed stock 
of grain. 

The doubt may appear in regard to the individual’s life 
work, as ¢. g., between being a missionary and a business 
man, both, however, with the idea of personal consecration 
uppermost; or in regard to one’s personal religious status. 
In this latter case, fear of having committed the unpardonable 
Sin is uppermost, as it is in most morbid religious fears, but 
innocent and insignificant things are magnified into heinous 
sins, and doubts about being a Christian are experienced. 
The connection between sex and Christianity in adolescence 
will be reserved for discussion in a future chapter, but a 
word regarding ill temper may be fitting. Most irritability 
of temper is the result of nerve fatigue, whether in child o1 
adult. Instead of allowing this to be an additional source 
of self-condemnation, the true state of affairs should be ex- 
plained and means taken to alleviate it. Sympathetic 
instruction should take the place of scolding. 

For Christianity adolescence is a critical and important 
period; in fact, Christianity has been characterized as an 
adolescent religion. ‘‘ What we need is a religion which will 
keep us young, which will keep us active and free from senti- 
mentality and morbidity in middle life, and which will keep 
us interested in life and its ethical problems into old age. 
And it seems to be the peculiar mission of the religion of 
Jesus to keep people adolescents in spirit all their life. In 
this, to my mind, lies the superiority of the religion of Jesus 
from a psychological point of view.”’? 

Although there is a sharp break in some respects from the 
childhood experiences, yet the adolescent reconstruction 
depends on the childhood training. As in childhood, so the 
adolescent should be induced to give free scope to his re- 


1J. du Buy, “Stages of Religious Development,” American Journal 
of Religious Psychology and Education, 1, p. 23. 


282 AGE 


ligious instincts, and develop along natural lines. While 
sympathy, suggestion, and training are undoubtedly helpful, 
each individual is a distinct problem, and must be allowed 
to take original lines of growth.’ 

If childhood and adolescence have been passed satis- 
factorily from a religious point of view, adult religion comes 
to be a period of reconstruction and development along the 
lines of those accepted in later adolescence. The early 
lessons of childhood are not without influence all through 
life, and with many people they are very important. Some 
believe, because they have always believed, others believe 
because it is too difficult for them to think for themselves, 
and still others take religious doctrines for granted because 
their friends do. This credulity of adult life is different 
from that of childhood because the former is tinged with 
rationality. A smaller class take the authority of experts 
as a basis for their beliefs, but still sift it through reason, 
and a few take the trouble to find a basis for their belief by 
argument and rational thinking. Still others espouse doc- 
trines which are comfortable and pleasant, those which they 
“‘will to believe,” and a larger number have mystical ex- 
periences of a more or less vivid character which establish 
belief in a far larger number of doctrines than are touched 
by the experience. For example, a person may have a feel- 
ing or sense of the presence of God; this does not only con- 
firm his belief in the being of God, but confirms his belief 
in all other orthodox doctrines. The adult belief may be 
progressive, developing from a primitive credulity to inde- 
pendent thought. Post adolescent conversions are not so 


‘For further information on the adolescent problem, especially as 
it concerns religion, see G. S. Hall, Adolescence, I and II; G. A. Coe, 
The Spiritual Life, pp. 29-103; E. D. Starbuck, The Psychology of 
Religion; J. B. Pratt, The Psychology of Religious Beliej, pp. 212-230, 
and innumerable works on Sunday School Pedagogy. 


AGE 283 


harmful as the childhood ones, and usually are the only 
source of hope. On the other hand, they are more difficult 
to initiate, more rarely effective, and more fraught with 
hindrances and obstacles. 


CHAPTER XX 
SEX 


**A woman impudent and mannish grown 
Is not more loathed than an effeminate man.” —SHAKESPEARE. 


It requires neither trained powers of observation nor pro- 
found psychological perspicacity to discover a difference 
between man and woman. We recognize a feminine type 
(to which no woman completely corresponds), and a mascu- 
line type (to which no man completely corresponds); 7. ¢., 
we expect certain habits of mind, certain reactions, and cer- 
tain modes of thought in every woman for no other reason 
than simply that she is a woman; the same is true concern- 
ing men. ‘These are probably modified by general education 
and individual training, but the underlying tendencies remain 
more or less constant. To say that there is a greater di- 
vergence between extremes in women on the one hand, and 
extremes in men on the other, and between different races, 
than between the two sexes, does not in the least mitigate 
against the main contention. Neither are we to be led 
astray by a dispute concerning the comparative superiority. 
We cannot say that one is higher than the other, for we have 
no standard by which to gauge them; we can only say that 
each sex is superior in its own way, and that the two are 
complementary. 

It is most natural to suppose that, if there is a psychological 
difference between the sexes, it would manifest itself in re- 
ligious reactions, and such we find to be the case. We can 


clearly differentiate two types of Christianity, the dividing 
284 


SEX 285 


line being that of the sexes. In a recent interesting but far 
from convincing volume,’ the thesis is stated and defended 
that the ultimate difference between the sexes is that women 
have no souls, the soul being a masculine characteristic. 
If we accept this it would be foolish to speak of feminine 
religion or morality, and this, in fact, that author holds. 
On the other hand, it is not uncommon to hear persons 
make the statement that women are far more religious than 
men, even to the extent of giving to women a monopoly of 
religion. ‘The facts seem to be at variance with both theories, 
and we will proceed with the assumption that both sexes are 
religious and both equally so. I trust that the data pre- 
sented may be convincing on both points. 

The task which first lies before us is to present the psy- 
chological peculiarities of the two sexes, which seem most 
important to us from the standpoint of religion. It may be 
well to note in the beginning that primitive men and women 
presented fewer divergencies, both physically and psycho- 
logically, than later, and also that at the present time while 
the physical differences are becoming modified by outdoor 
exercise and a more sensible idea of life on the part of women, 
the greatest change seems to be in a growing psychological 
similarity. ‘The extremes meet, and in the times between 
we find the greatest dissimilarity. The characteristics have 
been summed up as follows: 

“Man is fitted for feats of strength and bursts of energy; 
woman has more stability and endurance. While woman 
remains nearer to the infantile type, man approaches more 
to the senile. The extreme variational tendency of man 
expresses itself in a larger percentage of genius, insanity, 
and idiocy; woman remains more nearly normal.’” 

“Tf one may speak of types of mind and not of individuals, 


10. Weininger, Sex and Character. 
*W. I. Thomas, Sex and Society, p. 51. 


286 SEX 


it is within the truth to say that woman is a creature of intu- 
ition, of mystical emotion, rather than of intellect and rational 
inhibition.”’* 

“That men should have greater cerebral variability and, 
therefore, more originality, while women have greater sta- 
bility and, therefore, more ‘common sense,’ are facts both 
consistent with the general theory of sex and verifiable in 
common experience. The woman, conserving the effects 
of past variations, has what may be called the greater in- 
tegrating intelligence; the man, introducing new variations, 
is stronger in differentiation. The feminine passivity is 
expressed in greater patience, more open-mindedness, greater 
appreciation of subtle details, and consequently what we 
call more rapid intuition. The masculine activity leads to 
a greater power of maximum effort, of scientific insight, or 
cerebral experiment with impressions, and is associated 
with an unobservant and impatient disregard of minute de- 
tails, but with a stronger grasp of generalities. Man thinks 
more, woman feels more. He discovers more, but remembers 
less; she is more receptive, and less forgetful.” ? 

To approach the subject more in detail, we find that un- 
doubtedly women are intellectually inferior to men. The 
foremost places in every department of science, literature, 
and art have been occupied by men, and the number of 
women who have shown in any form the very highest order 
of genius is infinitesimally small. Even in music and paint- 
ing, for which they seem especially adapted, they have failed 
to obtain the first positions. “Women are intellectually 
more desultory and volatile than men, they are more occupied 
with particular instances than with general principles; they 
judge rather by intuitive perceptions than by deliberative 
reasoning or past experience. They are, however, usually 


'F. M. Davenport, Primitive Traits in Religious Revivals, p. 293. 
? Geddes and Thompson, The Evolution of Sex., p. 271. 


SEX 287 


superior to men in nimbleness and rapidity of thought, 
and in the gift of tact or the power of seizing speedily and 
faithfully the finer inflexions of feeling, and they have, 
therefore, often obtained very great eminence in conver- 
sation, as letter-writers, as actresses, and as novelists.’’! 
Women, being inferior in judgment, accept opinions of 
others more readily, men wish to reason out the matter; as 
a check to this, women are naturally very conservative, 
sometimes to the point of obstinacy. They have greater 
acquisitiveness, but less power of creative thought than men. 

In the volitional element men also appear superior. While 
woman excels in the fortitude with which she bears burdens, 
especially of long duration, she is less aggressive and inde- 
pendent, less firm, decisive, and determined. He wants to 
fight, she wins by tact and love. He has tenacity of purpose 
to overcome obstacles and embark on new enterprises, she, 
being more timid, confines her efforts to well-known work, 
which, however, she develops more persistently. The active 
and the heroic attract him; in the passive and the prosaic she 
finds her work. 

In the realm of emotions it is the man who is inferior. 
This is true, even allowing a considerable discount for emo- 
tional excesses. To women and the influences which they 
exert must be attributed the tender strains of life. Women 
are affectionate, sympathetic, compassionate. Altruism, 
long-suffering, and self-denial follow in the train. Although 
they are patient and long-suffering under pain, disappoint- 
ment, and adversity, they are, as a rule, more liable than 
men to be fickle and to show indecision of character. In 
men the emotions are more under control. The esthetic 
emotions are more often present in women, and “‘feminine 
‘taste’ is proverbially good in regard to the smaller matters 
of every-day life, although it becomes, as a rule, untrust- 

1W. E. H. Lecky, History of European Morals, I, p. 358. 


288 SEX 


worthy in proportion to the necessity for intellectual judg- 
ment.”’? 

Coupled with this emotional element is a great tendency 
to suggestibility, or, as Ellis calls it, ‘‘affectability.” Women 
respond to all forms of stimuli more readily than do men, 
and in the religious epidemics we noticed the large pro- 
portion of women involved. Even in spite of herself, woman 
responds to influences from without, and thereby more easily 
than man adapts herself to new conditions. This is the 
basis of the tact which is so characteristic of woman. Ex- 
ample and influence are more potent with her. This is 
what is meant by saying that crowds are always feminine. 
Latin crowds especially so.?. The crowd is very emotional 
and particularly suggestible, as we have already seen in 
dealing with the subject of contagious phenomena. 

Now what do these things mean to religion, what effect 
do they have on masculine and feminine Christianity? 
Very much as we shall see. Starbuck in his investigations 
found the sexual differences quite striking.® The age of 
conversion varies with the sex, the feminine being nearly 
two years earlier. The average duration of conviction was 
twenty-four weeks among females and sixty-nine weeks 
among males; there were six times as many females as males 
converted in regular church services, and twice as many 
males as females converted at home; both of these facts show 
the tendency of males to think things out. As a further 
indication of the prominence of intellectual factors in males 
he found fear, brooding, and morbid sensitiveness prominent 
among women at times of storm and stress, while the prom- 
inent elements among men were anxiety over doubt, and 


1G. J. Romanes, Mental Differences between Men and Women, 
Nineteenth Century, XXI, p. 658. 

2G. Le Bon, The Crowd, p. 44. 

*E. D. Starbuck, The Psychology of Religion. 


SEX 289 


friction with surroundings. Doubt came to men more often 
on account of educational influences, and to women as a 
natural growth. ‘‘Adolescence is for women primarily a 
period of storm and stress, while for men it is in the highest 
sense a period of doubt.” ‘“‘The volitional element seems 
to be greater among males, while females are more liable 
to remain in helplessness and uncertainty. The difference 
seems to indicate that feeling plays a larger part in the re- 
ligious life of females, while males are controlled more by 
intellection and volition.” 

Intense emotions are more prevalent with males; women 
are more imaginative, men want something tangible. There 
are more unconscious elements present in females in con- 
version, and here males respond best to subjective forces, and 
females to objective influences, such as imitation and social 
pressure. This means, of course, that women are more 
suggestible or ‘‘affectable.” We see that these data, obtained 
from investigations in religion, and especially with con- 
version, correspond very closely with the general description 
presented above. 

Coe, in similar investigations, found religious experiences 
coinciding with those of Starbuck. He says’ that we might 
expect that women “brought up under continuous religious 
incitement and suggestion would exhibit greater continuity 
of religious feeling and less tendency to pass through re- 
ligious crises. ... With men, religion tends more to focus 
itself into intense crises. Women yield sooner and show 
more placid progress, while men pass through more definite 
periods of awakening.” Religion with women is “something 
all pervasive and easily taken for granted.”’ ‘Men are more 
likely ...to resist certain religious tendencies up to the 
point of explosion.” Among those who sought striking 
transformations, more women than men succeeded in obtain- 

1G. A. Coe, The Spiritual Life, pp. 237 ff. 


290 SEX 


ing them. The women report satisfactory feelings among 
conversion experiences, and the men forgiveness and matters 
dealing with right and wrong. ‘‘ With women, religion is more 
like the intuitive tact that helps them so much in all the re- 
lations of life; with men, it requires the clumsier instruments 
of deliberation.” } 

Women are superior morally; men commit far more crimes. 
Women being more self-sacrificing, lead in both impulsive 
and deliberative virtue. Women are more tender, com- 
passionate and chaste. They are less liable to intemperance 
and brutality, but more prone to the petty forms of vanity, 
jealousy, spitefulness, and ambition, and they are inferior to 
men in active courage. In the ethics of the intellect women 
are below men. ‘They do not love truth as such, but what 
they call “the truth,” and hate any who differ with them. 
There is little impartiality or doubt in women. They are 
generous in acts, but not in opinions nor judgments. Men 
are just, women merciful; men excel in energy, self-reliance, 
perseverance, and magnanimity; women in humility, gentle- 
ness, modesty, and endurance. Realizing imagination caus- 
ing pity and love, and dwelling on the unseen, are better in 
women; they also have more vivid religious realizations. 
The sympathies of women are more intense but less wide; 
woman’s imagination individualizes more, her affections 
are for leaders rather than for causes. In benevolence, 
women excel in charity, which alleviates individual suffering, 
rather than in philanthropy, which deals with large masses 
and prevents instead of allays calamity.’ 

A passage in a letter by Rev. John H. Noyes, the founder 
and leader of the Oneida Creek Colony, reveals his idea of 
the difference between sects which have the sexual emotions 
prominent in their scheme, according to the masculine or 
feminine leadership. 

1W. E. H. Lecky, History of European Morals, II, pp. 359 ff. 


SEX 2Q1 


“One dominant peculiarity of the Shakers, as also of the 
Bundling Perfectionists, which determined their style of 
socialism, was, in my opinion, the Leadership of Women. 
Man of himself would never have invented Shakerism, and 
it would have been very difficult to have made him a 
medium of inspiration for the development of such a system. 
It is not in his line. But it is exactly adapted to the pro- 
clivities of woman in a state of independence or ascendency 
over man. Love between the sexes has two stages: the 
courting stage and the wedded stage. Women are fond of 
the first stage. Men are fond of the second. Women like 
to talk about love; but men want the love itself. Among 
the Perfectionists the women led the way in the bundling 
with purposes as chaste as those of the Shakers. For a time 
they had their way; but in time the men had their way.’” 

If there exist this difference between masculine and feminine 
reactions to religion, it is natural for us to ask why this should 
be. Some late writers consider that the education and en- 
vironment of sex explain all. 

“The point to be emphasized as the outcome of this study 
is that, according to our present light, the psychological 
differences of sex seem to be largely due, not to difference 
in average capacity, nor to difference in type of mental 
activity, but to differences in the social influences brought 
to bear on the developing individual from early infancy to 
adult years. The question of the future development 
of the intellectual life of women is one of social necessities 
and ideals rather than the inborn psychological character- 
istics of sex.’”’? Miss Thompson is not alone, but is followed 
by others with slightly different views. 

1W. H. Dixon, Spiritual Wives, II, p. 180 f. 

2H. B. Thompson, Psychological Norms in Men and Women, p. 182; 
see also E. Densmore, Sex Equality ; and T. C. Shaw, “The Special 


Psychology of Women,” The Lancet, May 2, 1908, who strongly advo- 
cate this position. 


292 SEX 


‘Even the most serious women of the present day stand, 
in any work they undertake, in precisely the same relation 
to men that the amateur stands to the professional in games.”’ 
“Scientific pursuits and the allied intellectual occupations 
are a game which women have entered late, and the lack 
of practice is frequently mistaken for lack of natural ability.” 
‘““At present we seem justified in inferring that the differences 
in mental expression between the higher and lower races 
and between men and women are no greater than they 
should be in view of the existing differences in opportunity. 
Indeed, when we take into consideration the superior cunning 
as well as the superior endurance of women, we may even 
raise the question whether their capacity for intellectual 
work is not under equal conditions greater than in men. 
Cunning is the analogue of constructive thought. ... En- 
durance is also a factor of prime importance in intellectual 
performance, for here as in business life ‘it is doggedness as 
doesitzas" : 

This view apparently over-emphasizes an element which 
for a time was overlooked. It seems hardly possible that edu- 
cation and development can explain all the differences. 
Some who have recognized both factors have seemed to 
come nearer to the truth, while those who recognize simply 
the organic cause err in the other extreme. Spencer states 
it in this way: “‘ Just as certainly as they (women) have physi- 
cal differences which are related to the respective parts they 
play in the maintenance of the race, so certainly have they 
psychical differences similarly related to their respective 
shares in the rearing and protection of offspring.” The 
double cause is noted in the following. “A distinction 
must be made between the incidental qualities of her nature 
due to her environment, ...and those more fundamental 
qualities due in history to her wife’s relationship and mother’s 

1W. I. Thomas, Sex and Society, pp. 306, 307, 312, and 313. 


SEX 293 


heart... . The physical differences between the sexes com- 
prise many secondary characteristics which are tokens of 
varying mental life.” We recognize the same position in 
the following: “Of all the pricks against which it is hard to 
kick, the hardest are those which are presented by Nature 
in the form of facts. Therefore, we may begin by wholly 
disregarding those short-sighted enthusiasts who seek to 
overcome the natural and fundamental distinctions of sex. 
No amount of female education can ever do this, nor is it 
desirable that it should.” ? 

As an indication of the change which has come in the men- 
tality of woman lately, especially through her new position in 
society, notice this: ‘‘She will never be man. Woman she will 
always be, and love will be her sceptre and home will be 
her throne. But the time will come when she will be less 
impulsively emotional, less highly suggestible, than she is 
now.” § 

“The affectability of women exposes them, as I have had 
occasion to point out, to very diabolical manifestations. 
It is also the source of very much of what is most angelic 
in women—their impulses of tenderness, their compassion, 
their moods of divine childhood. Poets have racked their 
brains to express and to account for this mixture of heaven 
and hell. We see that the key is really a very simple one: 
both the heaven and hell of women are but aspects of the 
same physiological affectability. Seeing this, we may see, 
too, that those worthy persons who are anxious to cut off 
the devil’s tail might find, if they succeeded, that they had 
also shorn the angel of her wings. The emotionality of 

1C. D. Case, The Masculine in Religion, p. 33 }. This little book 
will be found very valuable in a study of the subject of the relation of 
the sexes in religion. 

2G. J. Romanes, Mental Differences between Men and Women, 


Nineteenth Century, XXI, p. 667. 
*F. M. Davenport, Primitive Traits in Religious Revivals, p. 293. 


294 SEX 


woman within certain limits must decrease; there are those 
who will find consolation in the gradual character of that 
decrease.” * 

While there has been undoubtedly a change in the minds 
of women during the last half-century, and while we may 
expect a further change by which the sexes will draw closer 
together, we still find fundamental differences between 
them which similar education and environment can never 
eliminate. This is well. The sexes are not antagonistic, 
but complementary; and the culmination which some ap- 
parently hope for, the masculine conquest of the feminine, 
would be a loss which all should deplore. More compassion 
in man and more control in woman would be a condition 
to be desired, but this will never make a woman out of a 
man, nor a man out of a woman. ‘The sexual differences 
among all mammals are not only physical but mental as 
well, and this state exists apart from arbitrary schemes 
of education; it is only to be expected, therefore, that a nat- 
ural difference should exist among the sexes in the human 
species. 

It has been remarked that the chief characteristics of 
Greek art were masculine, and as art was but an expression 
of the moral and religious, the same may be predicated of 
Greek and other Pagan religions. The admired virtues 
were distinctively masculine: courage, self-assertion, mag- 
nanimity, and patriotism; chastity, modesty, and charity, 
the feminine virtues, were, with the exception of conjugal 
fidelity, much undervalued. The illustrious women of an- 
tiquity owe their fame to masculine qualities, which they 
were able to achieve, rather than to the feminine virtues 
which they developed. In the Spartan mother and the 
mother of the Gracchi we admire the masculine repression of 
grief, and in Portia and Arria the majestic masculine courage; 

‘H. Ellis, Man and Woman, p. 315. 


SEX 205 


feminine virtues were unnamed—they were not worthy of 
record. The charge is made that ‘‘the change from the 
heroic to the saintly ideal, from the ideal of Paganism to the 
ideal of Christianity, was a change from a type which was 
essentially male to one which was essentially feminine.”’ ’ 
It is pointed out that Stoicism was the system which was 
most emphatically masculine, while Christianity, in which 
humility, meekness, gentleness, patience, trust, and love 
predominate, is essentially feminine. Even in these days, 
when there is the tendency toward the surrender of women 
to the masculine ideal, the charge is reiterated and it behooves 
us to ask if it is true. Is Christianity feminine? I believe 
that, in general, it is. In our churches women predominate 
in the membership in the relation of about thirteen to seven, 
and in attendance at church services even greater than that; 
and if the ideals of Christianity which are usually held, and 
the sermons which are most often preached, are examined, 
it will readily be seen that they are distinctly feminine.’ 
It is charged by some men that we worship weakness rather 
than strength; this is not so. We worship feminine strength 
rather than masculine. “The namby-pamby, goody-goody 
conception of goodness is simply an exaggeration, amounting 
to caricature, of the gentler virtues in which women excel.” 
If this is the situation to-day, we must look for causes, 
and the proper place to begin, is with the founder, Jesus. 
Was Jesus a feminine man? Are the virtues which He es- 
poused, and the doctrines which He taught, distinctively 
feminine? I believe we must answer “No,” to both of 
these questions. If His character and doctrines are ex- 
amined, apart from the traditions of the church and the in- 
terpretations of the past, it will be found that He ministered 


1W. E. H. Lecky, History of European Morals, II, pp. 361 7. 
2C. D. Case, The Masculine in Religion, pp. 22-32; G. A. Coe, The 
Spiritual Life, p. 247 f. 


296 SEX 


to both the masculine and feminine natures, as would be 
necessary for any one who was to be the Savior and ideal of 
both sexes. He was not so compassionate that He could 
be called weak, and not so just that He could be called 
cruel. We find a most splendid balance.’ 

So prevalent does the idea seem to be that Jesus was ef- 
feminate, and so exclusively are the feminine virtues empha- 
sized in His church to-day, that it is not necessary to mention 
this side. The manliness of Christ is the matter in dispute. 
Case concludes, from the answers to a questionnaire which he 
distributed, that there are four phases of Christ’s life that are 
attractive to men when properly presented, vzz., the human 
as the counterpart to the divine Christ, the personal as op- 
posed to the theological Christ, the modern Christ versus 
the ancient Christ, and the masculine Christ as opposed to 
the feminine. It is the last point which particularly inter- 
ests us here. But is there a masculine Christ? If we follow 
the interpretation of the Roman Church, which most do, 
we should answer in the negative. Roman Catholic art 
pictures Him as most effeminate, and He is always described 
as the passive sufferer, with hyper-developed emotions. 
Let us see. He was a sufferer, but not a passive one. In 
no way can we see the resolution, the strength, and persist- 
ence of will as by viewing His life in connection with the 
suffering. ‘‘He steadfastly set His face toward Jerusalem.” 
He conquered notwithstanding the suffering. Yes, He 
conquered by and through the suffering. He was not the 
docile, buffeted fool, but using the very means by which 
others sought to destroy Him, He became the victor and hero. 
See Him as He stands, the only calm one in Pilate’s hall; 
see Him as He waits for the mob to lay hands on Him, the 


1See T. Hughes, The Manliness of Christ; BR. E. Speer, The Man 
Christ Jesus; for brief analyses, see C. D. Case, The Masculine in 
Religion, chap. X; G. A. Coe, The Spiritual Life, pp. 256-260. 


SEX 207 


only one among enemies or friends not manifesting fear; 
see Him as with scourge He cleanses the temple, and see if 
there was a weak, passive individual there. In circum- 
stances where weak men would have quailed, He stood, by 
the very power of the strength of His will, and overcame. 

Neither was the doctrine which He presented of a passive 
character. On the contrary, in contrast to Judaism He 
presented the active phase of life. His commands were, 
“Thou Shalt,” Judaism said, ‘Thou shalt not’; and here 
we see the essential difference between the active and passive 
natures. His instructions in specific incidents point not to 
the effeminate life, but to the strong, active, perhaps even 
harsh duty, especially when He was dealing with men. He 
did not encourage the rich young man in the life of luxury 
and ease, but prescribed for him the most drastic remedy, 
an act capable of testing the masculine qualities. 

Now, what is true of the will we can predicate of the in- 
tellect. Were not His thoughts profound, touching the very 
depths of human nature? Some of the principles which He 
enunciated are being exploited to-day as new discoveries. 
Was not His plan one worthy of the highest commendation ? 
True, it was despised at the time, but it has stood the test of 
nearly two millenniums and is more admired to-day than ever 
before. Do not His tilts with His enemies who were schooled 
in the greatest intellectuality of their times show His keen 
analysis and brilliant acumen? He taught with authority, 
because the people recognized His intellectual greatness, 
He was sagacious and sane. He was the essence of original- 
ity and refused simply to copy what tradition presented to 
Him. 

Marvellous in self-control, in temptation, and when 
taunted; splendid in the moral courage which He showed 
when compromise seemed the part of policy, and strong as a 
leader and commander of men, He stands before us supremely 


298 SEX 


manly. In saying this it is but just that we should mention 
His emotional nature. Tender He was, kind, loving, self- 
sacrificing, sympathetic, and compassionate—all of these. 
He presents to us that strength of will and intellect character- 
istic of man, and that strength and quality of the emotional 
nature characteristic of woman. To follow Him it is not 
necessary for men to become effeminate, nor for women to 
play the man. One becomes not less a man nor less a woman 
by being Christ-like. No peculiar temperament must be 
cultivated, no eccentricity assumed, no extraordinary con- 
duct developed, in order to be Christ’s disciple; but each 
may follow in his own way, providing he act naturally. 

The all-sidedness of His personality and the comprehen- 
siveness of His doctrine attract all men, however different 
they may be. ‘‘To be strong and yet tender, brave and 
yet kind, to combine in the same breast the temper of a hero 
with the sympathy of a maiden—this is to transform the ape 
and the tiger into what we know ought to constitute the 
man.”* ‘This description must lead us to Jesus as the true 
ideal of manliness. 

Down through the ages there has been a strange mixture 
of the masculine and feminine in Christianity. The offices 
of the church have always been held by men, and even to- 
day there is a prejudice against women preachers. The 
cruelty manifested at times and the organized military de- 
flection of the church during the crusades were undoubtedly 
masculine. On the other hand, monasticism and the epi- 
demics of the more emotional and transitory character were 
feminine. The worship of the Virgin Mary, ‘‘The Mother 
of God,” and the artistic and dogmatic elements introduced 
into the church, were also feminine. The unbalanced at- 
tachment to the person of Christ rather than to His great 


1G. J. Romanes, Mental Differences between Men and Women, 
Nineteenth Century, XXI, p. 661. 


SEX ; 299 


doctrines is another feminine trait. In the Middle Ages 
religion was feminine because the great mass of men took 
part in the practical things of life, while women indulged 
in religion, and the great trouble was that one was set over 
against the other. 

In the religious upheaval following the Reformation, it is 
undoubtedly true that the Roman Catholic Church followed 
the feminine type of Christianity, while Protestantism fol- 
lowed more closely the masculine type. In addition to retain- 
ing the Virgin worship, Catholicism by music, painting, 
impressive architecture, and solemn pageantry fostered 
modes of feeling and imagination rather than of thought and 
will, and by the assertion of supreme authority attracted 
women whose part is to lean rather than to stand. On the 
other hand, Protestantism, by asserting the dignity and duty 
of private judgment and impressing the sense of individual 
responsibility, furnished a religion for men of which Puritan- 
ism was the most masculine form. 

Catholicism softens the character, while Protestantism 
strengthens it, and the danger is that they may degenerate 
into weakness or hardness. Loyalty and humility flourish 
best among Roman Catholics, for these are essentially 
feminine virtues; the masculine virtues of liberty and self- 
assertion are found more generally among Protestants. It 
was a mistake that Protestantism, in endeavoring to root out 
the evil of Catholicism, did not reform rather than destroy 
the conventual system which produced in some cases a 
splendid type of woman. We are to-day endeavoring to 
restore its semblance by different female orders, but we have 
lost four hundred years of efficient service. While Protes- 
tantism rejected the worship of the Virgin, it still retains her 
characteristics in her Son, and holds the passive virtues in 
disproportionate esteem. It is well to note that the develop- 

1W. E. H. Lecky, History of European Morals, II, pp. 368 ff. 


300 . SEX 


ment of Christianity toward the feminine type has done a 
good service in elevating woman, and this is no small ser- 
vice to civilization and advancement. ; 

However true it may be that Protestantism emphasizes 
more than Catholicism the masculine type of Christianity, 
we must still admit, I think, that our churches are one- 
sided and that the feminine continues to be over-emphasized. 
If this is the case, we should expect to find, what we actually 
do find, an alienation of strong men from the church, many 
of whom take the traditional view of the church, because they 
are not acquainted with the more masculine type of Chris- 
tianity, which is being presented from some pulpits to-day. 
Women are not more religious than men, but they have had 
their wants supplied, while men who have hungered and 
thirsted after righteousness, have been handed something in- 
digestible. 

In our more modern system of living some additional 
reasons may be given why the feminine type is fostered. 
‘The hand that rocks the cradle is the hand that rules the 
world.”” ‘The mothers have been the religious teachers in 
the homes and in the Sunday Schools, and the female type of 
Christianity has been taught boys and girls alike, and only 
this type has been presented. Our new views on pedagogy 
are remedying this in the Sunday Schools, at least. The 
revival method has been an important factor in continuing 
the predominance of women in the churches. ‘‘ Woman is 
easily swayed by emotion. Her mental constitution is fer- 
tile soil for external suggestion by a speaker or by the ex- 
ample of a friend. And it is not at all wonderful that the 
drawing of the gospel net should reveal so frequently an 
excess of the feminine among the multitude of fishes.” * 
- Those churches which use the revival method most exten- 
sively in procuring new members, have found this state- 

‘F. M. Davenport, Primitive Traits in Religious Revivals, p. 293 f. 


SEX 301 


ment to be true. On the other hand, some churches which 
shun revivals, have catered to women by the artistic quality 
of the service and the passive quality of duty; the result has 
therefore not been far different. 

“Does not the worship of material luxury and wealth, 
“which constitutes so large a portion of the ‘spirit’ of the age, 
make somewhat for effeminacy and unmanliness? Is not 
the exclusively sympathetic and facetious way in which 
most children are brought up to-day—so different from the 
education of a hundred years ago, especially in evangelical 
circles—in danger, in spite of its many advantages, of de- 
veloping a certain trashiness of fibre? Are there not here- 
abouts some points of application for a renovated and revised 
ascetic discipline? 

“Many of you would recognize such dangers, but would 
point to athletics, militarism, and individual and national 
enterprise and adventure as the remedies. These contem- 
porary ideals are quite as remarkable for the energy with 
which they make for heroic standards of life, as contempo- 
rary religion is remarkable for the way in which it neglects 
them. War and adventure assuredly keep all who engage 
in them from treating themselves too tenderly.’’* 

One may see that the first influence which Professor 
James names, is far more influential in the church than the 
latter, especially as war and some forms of athletics are not 
recognized by the church with much fervor. Virility, how- 
ever, will manifest itself, and must make itself felt in Chris- 
tianity as in other departments of life, especially when the 
MAN Jesus is better known. 


1W. James, The Varieties of Religious Experience, p. 365. 


CHAPTER XXI 
INTELLECT 


‘Tis the mind that makes the body rich.”—SHAKESPEARE. 


RELIGION is so comprehensive that we find persons ap- 
proaching it from very many different standpoints, and not 
infrequently the view which a person obtains of religious 
truth seems to him to be the only sane one. Conse- 
quently, we find persons not only viewing religion through 
their intellectual spectacles, but defining religion as an in- 
tellectual affair. For example, Martineau, Romanes, d’Al- 
viella, Hegel, Harnack, and others present definitions which 
make the intellect the prime factor as some in their explana- 
tions consider other mental activities fundamental. Reason 
is not the whole of religion but it is one factor—an important 
factor. 

It would be as erroneous to endeavor to depreciate this 
function as it would be to put all the burden upon it. Both 
of these one-sided standpoints have been taken by different 
investigators. Glanvill said, “‘There is not anything I 
know, which hath done more mischief to Religion than the 
disparaging of Reason.” ‘This is probably true, but it would 
be equally true if we substitute either “Emotion” or “ Will” 
in the place of ‘‘Reason.”’ The same thing would also be 
true if we substitute ‘‘undue exaltation” for “disparaging”’ 
in any one of three suggested sentences. In other words, 
the symmetrical functioning of the various factors of mind 
is necessary for a healthy religious life. 


In pathological cases it is not that some faculty is too 
302 


INTELLECT 303 


strong, but that a balance is lacking; it matters not how strong 
the different factors are so long as one is not excessive. It 
is noticeable that in most abnormal cases the balance is im- 
perfect on account of a deficiency of intellect. The lack in 
the emotions or even in the will does not appear to be fol- 
lowed by the disastrous results that intellectual deficiency 
causes. Strong emotions and weak intellect are a most 
undesirable combination. This, however, is not infrequently 
seen in saintship. St. Gertrude and Margaret Mary Ala- 
coque were faithful examples of this condition, while St. 
Teresa appeared to possess a strong intellect except in so 
far as her judgment of ideals was concerned. Fanaticism 
is usually associated with strong emotions and will, but with 
a weak intellect, or at least with a narrow intellectual outlook. 

As a rule, the mystics have disparaged the intellect, and 
where reason was extolled an extraordinary interpretation 
was given. St. John of the Cross, for example, considered 
the sacrifice of the reason as part of the crucifixion of the 
old man. On the other hand, Whichcote, Smith, and other 
Latitudinarians extolled reason, and through it tried to es- 
tablish a basis for the union of all Christians. Wordsworth, 
too, gives the reason an exalted place. These, however, 
are the exceptions and not the rule, for many follow William 
Law in his position as a declared enemy of the use of reason 
in religion. 

If it were desirable, which it is not, to emphasize any one 
intellectual factor or to eliminate any, it would be impossible 
to do so, for all the mental activities are so intertwined and 
related that we cannot isolate any. It may be well, then, for 
us to inquire the relation of the others to the intellect. If 
we may say that simply because a man is intellectual he is 
not religious, we may say that he cannot be religious without 
being intellectual in some sense. There is a universal faith 
in reason underlying all religions, for human experience, 


304 INTELLECT 


whether it be religious or otherwise, must undertake to 
understand itself; the rationality of any religion will finally 
determine its place and standing, and the only claim which 
any religion has to be worthy of universal acceptance is an 
appeal to the court of human reason as a judge of the con- 
tent of the truth held by it. 

We may say that some persons are religious and yet are not 
very intellectual; that may beso. Intellectuality, like will, is 
a matter of development, and simply because a man is a man, 
he is not necessarily, therefore, as intellectual as other men; 
this is no more true than to say that he has the same amount 
of will because he is human. A man may be religious with- 
out possessing an abundance of intellectuality, but he can- 
not be religious in the highest or most symmetrical way if 
he is lacking in this particular. Religion is not an intel- 
lectual affair entirely, but it must be reasonable neverthe- 
less; even if some things are inexplicable, they are not there- 
by zrrational. ‘The reasonableness of Christianity is its 
only claim upon the attention of man, and this appeal is be- 
coming stronger rather than weaker. 

Religion must not disparage reason—the church which 
endeavors to crush out criticism and inquiry, is removing 
the props from under it. ‘The debt which the church owes 
reason for past services is incalculable, but even more in 
the future reason will be required. 

“Religion must indeed be a thing of the heart; but in 
order to elevate it from the region of subjective caprice 
and waywardness, and to distinguish between that which 
is true and false in religion, we must appeal to an objective 
standard. ‘That which enters the heart must first be dis- 
cerned by the intelligence to be true. It must be seen as 
having in its own nature a right to dominate feeling, and as 
constituting the principle by which feeling must be judged. 
In estimating the religious character of individuals, nations, 


INTELLECT 305 


or races, the first question is, not how they feel, but what 
they think and believe—not whether their religion is one 
which manifests itself in emotions, more or less vehement 
and enthusiastic, but what are the conceptions of God and 
divine things by which these emotions are called forth. 
Feeling is necessary in religion, but it is by the content or 
intelligent basis of a religion, and not by feeling, that its 
character and work are to be determined.”’* 

Reason is the final arbiter; if we are to obey the injunction 
to ‘try every spirit,’”’ how are we to do it except by the reason ? 
The question of how we may justify the exalted claims of 
reason as the supreme judge in all matters, and therefore 
in religion, is a valid one, but one which would take us too far 
afield into the theoretical aspects, and also necessarily into the 
philosophical side of epistemology, to be within our scope here. 

Emotion may be—is—one source of religion, but reason 
is nevertheless a source in the race and in the individual, 
and, if we can read the signs of the times, promises to be more 
and more important in the days to come. While the grow- 
ing importance of reason is apparent, I can hardly agree with 
Ribot when he says that ‘‘religion tends to turn to religious 
philosophy”; the roots of the emotional nature are too deep- 
seated to be eradicated—the emotions will simply be guided 
and controlled. If there is a tendency to-day, it seems to be 
in the direction of conduct, 7. e., the volitional side of religion. 
Inge says, “The life of the spirit perhaps begins with mere 
feeling, and perhaps will be consummated in mere feeling, 
but during its struggles to enter into its full inheritance, it 
gathers up into itself the activities of all the faculties, which 
act harmoniously together in proportion as the organism 
to which they belong is in a healthy state.”? The only 


1 J. Caird, Introduction to the Philosophy of Religion, pp. 174 and 186, 
quoted by W. James, The Varieties of Religious Experience, p. 434. 
7W. R. Inge, Christian Mysticism, p. 331. 


306 INTELLECT 


criticism I have of this is a doubt of the consummation of 
life in feeling. 

Not only can religion use intellectual processes, but we 
may say that all of man’s reasoning powers are normally 
committed to the service of religion. The intellect cannot 
be disregarded as a source. If we should admit the probable 
beginning of religion in primitive feeling, it would inevitably 
follow that no more than the first step could be taken with- 
out the definite use of intellect in connection with the feeling. 
Both religion and science, in a search for origins, would come 
upon intellectual curiosity very near the bottom.’ Whatever 
may be the object of religious faith, reason must aid in the 
construction of it, and it is apparent that only the human in- 
tellect and imagination are equal to the task of framing a 
conception of God. In any religious or other matter, the 
intellect clarifies and systematizes and declares what is 
worthy of admiration, and it is noticeable that even those 
who lay special emphasis on feeling in religion recognize 
the dependence of feeling upon the intellect for its develop- 
ment.” Some have had a distinct sense of the presence of 
God while engaged in intellectual pursuits, as in the study 
of science, and even during intellectual doubt;* others have 
approached God only by a search for intellectual consistency. 

“The Reformers taught that while the natural understand- 
ing is competent to judge of the external evidence of Revela- 
tions—to perceive, for example, the force of the argument 
from miracles—yet, for a spiritual discernment of the contents 
of Scripture, and for an inward, living perception and con- 
viction of the reality of the gospel there unfolded, the testi- 
mony of the Holy Ghost, imparted directly to the heart, is 
requisite. Luther, in severe and extravagant terms, assails 


1G. T. Ladd, The Philosophy of Religion, 1, pp. 273, 298 ff., and 320. 


°C. C. Everett, The Psychological Elements of Religious Faith, p. 87. 
*G. A. Coe, The Religion of a Mature Mind, p. 235. 


INTELLECT 307 


the pretensions of reason to judge in the sphere of divine 
truth; but his assault is really directed against reason as 
darkened by sin and swayed by an unwarrantable bias. 
Yet, possibly a reminiscence of Occam’s teaching on the 
contradictions of faith and science may have had its influ- 
ence. The Socinians, who acknowledged no such blinding 
influence of moral evil, magnified the capacity of reason in 
its relation to religious inquiry. ‘They not only insisted 
that nothing contrary to reason could be accepted; they were 
prone to attribute to a false interpretation scripture doc- 
trines, like the Trinity, which seemed to their minds incon- 
sistent with reason.’ ? 

We no longer hear of the warfare of science and religion 
to-day; science is resting more fully on the postulates of 
religion, and religion is becoming more scientific. This 
is inevitable as we get a clearer and more distinct understand- 
ing of the nature of both. There is less of a disposition to 
discredit the services of reason in our churches to-day, and 
a marked sympathy with the use of the intellect in religion 
is apparent. This is shown, among other ways, by a less 
frequent use of the antithesis of intellectuality and de- 
votionalism than was formerly the case, and even the most 
emotional are recognizing the use of reason in devotion, and 
of devotion in the religious use of the reason. Tennyson’s 
words can now be voiced, 


“Tet knowledge grow from more to more 
ge g ) 
But more of reverence in us dwell.”’ 


Professor Leuba says, ‘‘the will, born blind, generates 
the intellect in order to have a guide. It is the intellect 
which interprets and organizes the chaos in which the will 
finds itself on awakening. In religion, for instance, the in- 
tellect spurred to its task by certain needs, creates divinities. 


1G. P. Fisher, History of the Christian Church, p. 440. 


308 INTELLECT 


There would be no theology if there were no religious needs 
and purposes. The creative freedom of the intellect is, 
of course, checked from several sides, chiefly perhaps by 
the logical claims made by the external world.” * 

Some have demanded that religion should abandon the 
intellectual pursuits of deduction and metaphysics and take 
up induction and criticism; @ priori conclusions are depre- 
cated and the scientific extolled. There is also a demand 
for perpetual health and a never-ending natural life in place 
of sickness and death, but in neither case is there any im- 
mediate prospect of a fulfilment of the demand. ‘True, 
religion may adopt a scientific method, but it cannot be freed 
from metaphysical assumptions any more than science can. 
However much we may wish it, religion can never eschew 
metaphysics, because it is always a theory of reality. This, 
it is true, is outside our realm of investigation, but is, never- 
theless, vital to a correct understanding of the intellectual 
sphere. 

In some recent psychological studies? belief is analyzed 
and divided into three classes. Belief is defined as “the 
mental attitude of assent to the reality of a given object.” 
The three divisions are, (1) Primitive Credulity; (2) Intel- 
lectual Belief; (3) Emotional Belief. ‘The religion of prim- 
itive peoples and of children is that of the first class. Here 
also should be placed the Christianity of the Middle Ages, 
notwithstanding the exceptions among a few independent 
thinkers of that time. The Middle Ages represent the re- 
ligion ruled by the authority of tradition, and hence must 
be classed as Primitive Credulity. The religion which 
rests upon the authority of experts is classed under the second 


1 J. H. Leuba, ‘The Field and Problems of the Psychology of Re- 
ligion,” The American Journal of Religious Psychology and Education, 
Lops 10r, 

* J. B. Pratt, The Psychology of Religious Belief. 


INTELLECT 309 


head—Intellectual Belief. Pratt believes that Primitive 
Credulity is an experience of the past and is no longer to be 
reckoned with. Intellectual Belief comes only after doubt, 
and its conclusions are founded on a rational basis. 

The eighteenth century was the age of Rationalism—the 
age of the religion of the understanding, of which John 
Locke was the champion. However much men might 
differ in their conclusions, they agreed that they could only 
be reached through arguments. Religious faith must be 
based on reason, and that alone. Out of seventy-seven 
answers to Pratt’s questionnaire, twenty-two would be classed 
as Intellectual Belief, because they rested on the authority 
of experts. As Primitive Credulity is dead, so is Intellectual 
Belief dying, and the fate of Christianity rests in the hands 
of Emotional Belief. 

This latter class is in turn divided into two parts. Those 
whose faith springs from a demand or desire—a will to be- 
lieve, and those whose faith is controlled by a touch of mys- 
ticism, as e. g., those who experience the presence of God, 
or confuse esthetic with religious emotions. Of Pratt’s 
seventy-seven answers, forty belong to this class, and sixteen 
others contain accounts of mystical experiences, although 
they are not classed here. Another definition of belief 
is added: not only is belief intellectual assent, but another 
kind is defined as emotional conviction or reality feeling 
—the latter being the most common, as it includes the third 
class. This belief of demand or feeling is vital rather than 
theoretical, and must be experienced to be known. Much 
emphasis is laid upon subconscious influences in this form 
of belief, where the ideas which dominate become more real 
and vivid through marginal or subconscious feeling. 

This is a brief résumé of Professor Pratt’s position, and is 
subject to the following criticisms. In the endeavor to 
establish his thesis it is over-emphasized—which, by the way, 


310 INTELLECT 


is a sin so common as to be usually considered no subject , 
for criticism. ‘The value of the intellectual processes he 
acknowledges in parentheses, but they are undoubtedly 
undervalued. The greatest fault, and this because it is so 
misleading, is the name he applies to the last division; it is 
a misnomer. While he lays undue emphasis on the emo- 
tional factor in belief, he also acknowledges that it is a vital, 
comprehensive experience. What he crowds into the first 
division of Emotional Belief might, with equal justice, be 
considered under the rubric of will. In fact, it seems that 
the voluntary rather than the emotional is playing the lead- 
ing réle in religion to-day, and in belief as in other depart- 
ments. ‘The pragmatic tendency he places under the head 
of emotionalism, but is it not conative? It appeals to the 
active, practical affairs of life. But admitting, as he does, 
the undoubted value and presence of the intellect and the 
will in the Emotional Belief, even if the Emotions are empha- 
sized, a more comprehensive name might have been chosen, 
and a more balanced presentation given, which would have 
allowed us all to agree with him. Belief can never be wholly 
or principally an emotional characteristic, and I do not be- 
lieve that the present age is gravitating in that direction. 
It is largely emphasizing the intellect, and especially the 
will. | 

One great difficulty in our discussion of reason, as in many 
other departments of thought, is in the varying definitions 
of the word. ‘This is true, whether the word is understood 
in the popular or psychological and philosophical way. 
Take, for example, the various ways in which Kant used 
this term in his critical treatises. This has been a fault, 
not only of Kant, but of men before and since his time. 
The difficulty may be that man has never fully succeeded in 
understanding his own rational nature, and that one-sided 
or partial views have existed among different men or in the 


INTELLECT 3II 


same man at different times. The word “reason” may, for 
instance, refer to the logical process of thought, or to that 
which determines jor us what appears to be reasonable or 
unreasonable. Until we get a more exact terminology, we 
must expect to be misunderstood and ambiguous. 

The nature of belief depends, not entirely upon the in- 
tellectual processes as such, but upon the nature of the ob- 
jects of belief.* Intellectual assent it may be, but in certain 
cases it is more. This something more is probably the 
presence of the emotional and volitional elements, and de- 
pends not altogether on how we grasp the object, but on 
how the object appeals to us. True belief in anything im- 
plies that we shall respond actively to all that this belief in- 
volves. In some cases mere intellectual assent may be all 
that is implied in a belief, in other cases it must touch the 
foundations of our life. Notice the gradations in the follow- 
ing propositions. I believe that the earth is round or flat. 
I make a simple intellectual assent to this, it demands no 
response or action on my part except this assent. I believe 
that honesty is the best policy; that requires more response, 
the will must become active in carrying out the implications 
of this belief. I believe that I am a child of God, this per- 
meates every department of life—it comprehends the whole 
man, intellectual, emotional, and volitional. No mere in- 
tellectual assent will suffice, and it requires a response in 
my every act of life. This is where much ambiguity has 
been generated. A belief in Jesus Christ does not mean a 
mere intellectual assent to His having lived in Palestine 
nearly two millenniums ago, but means the acceptance of His 
doctrines to-day. Spiritual truths are always more com- 
prehensive than ordinary facts of life, and consequently be- 
lief in religious tenets and in scientific and historical facts 
may mean very different things, although the one word be- 

1H. W. Clark, The Philosophy of Christian Experience, pp. 165-173. 


312 INTELLECT 


lief is used in both. Of course, to have real belief, its con- 
tents must harmonize with our life as a whole, or we must 
make our lives harmonize with it—it must take in the whole 
man. This unification of life is the great province of Chris- 
tianity, it unifies life under one supreme ideal. 

Let us now turn to two factors of the intellectual life 
which are wont to hold a foremost place in religious life— 
doubt and faith. 

Intellectual doubt in religious matters is not uncommon, 
but may be designated, I believe, as particularly an adoles- 
cent phenomenon. ‘This is the age of remorseless criticism, 
which inevitably lands the individual into doubt of everything 
that does not satisfy his most exacting standards. During 
this time the youth demands facts to settle all questions 
which he may ask—and they are legion—and failing this, 
is thrown into doubt. He demands far more than he is able 
to assimilate, and in matters of religion the most he can get 
is not satisfying. ‘The answers to most of his questions can 
only be given by the somewhat slow process of experience, 
and perhaps the most that can be done is to try to guide him 
and request him to keep his mind open. The activity of 
experience may satisfy him better than the most exact logical 
syllogisms. In some cases the doubts may be so serious as 
to develop into worry or melancholia, but in such cases there 
are likely to be some physical complications. 

In Starbuck’s investigations he found that doubts began 
at about eleven or twelve years, but reached their highest 
point in females at fifteen or sixteen and in males at eigh- 
teen. With both it is later than the period of greatest physi- 
cal growth and of conversion, but corresponds to that of 
asserted mental and emotional activity. He also found that 
educational influences were the most prolific occasion for 
doubt, furnishing twenty-three per cent. in females, and 
seventy-three per cent. in males, and that the object of doubt 


INTELLECT 313 


most frequently centred around conventional theological 
doctrines, as e. g., authority and inspiration of the Bible, 
divinity of Christ or existence of God. His conclusion is 
that ‘‘adolescence is for women primarily a period of storm 
and stress, while for men it is in the highest sense a period 
of doubt.’’* 

We must recognize, however, that doubt is not confined to 
the adolescent period, even although it may seem to be most 
active then. Some would characterize the present time as an 
age of doubt, but if so it is doubt in its best form. It would 
be more nearly correct to designate it as an age of inquiry; 
to-day, in our search for truth, we are re-examining every 
tenet. The iron hand of authority has less weight and is less 
feared than formerly, and men are thinking for themselves 
as never before. They feel a personal responsibility for 
their beliefs, which they cannot shift to ecclesiastical author- 
ities or any one else, however willing they may be to ac- 
cept it. The creeds which fitted our fathers are as incon- 
gruous as would be their clothes; we are taking them for 
what they are worth. No value is destroyed or depreciated, 
but the outgrown is laid aside, and we accept that which 
can be of use to us. Critical inquiry there is to-day and per- 
haps some less valuable form of doubt, but it is simply a 
quicker and more energetic method of winnowing, character- 
istic of our times. 

Moses” has divided cases of doubt into four classes, ac- 
cording to the result which followed: (1) Those which led 
to new beliefs or the revelation of new truths. (2) Those 
resulting in a return to old truths. (3) Those causing either 
indifference or hostility to religion. (4) Those which never 
ceased, but continued as a never-ending turmoil. The di- 


1G. A. Coe, The Spiritual Life, pp. 58-67; E. D. Starbuck, The 
Psychology of Religion, pp. 232-243. 
? J. Moses, Pathological Aspects of Religions, pp. 193-207. 


314 INTELLECT 


visions might have been made from other standpoints, but 
this scheme has the virtue of distinguishing the cases where 
doubt is of value from those where doubt ends disastrously. 
Doubt is thus not an unmixed evil, nor an inevitable source 
of good. The emphasis is usually placed on the destructive 
element in it; perhaps we might tarry for a moment to indi- 
cate some of its good features. Doubt stimulates investiga- 
tion, thereby freeing religion from past errors and passing 
on to new intellectual victories. Mixed as it usually is with 
a certain amount of faith, it maintains a balance which as- 
sists in a symmetrical and harmonious development; this 
is especially true in adolescence. Beliefs never become so 
really ours as when, receiving them not on the authority 
of others but after a period of doubt, we decide on their 
truthfulness. ‘Truth usually carries its authority with it, and 
a careful search stimulated by doubt not unusually betrays 
its stamp of genuineness. Potentially, if not actually, 


“There lies more faith in honest doubt, 
Believe me, than in half the creeds.”’ 


The exaltation of faith by Jesus and the New Testament 
writers has necessarily made it an important factor in re- 
ligion. Its importance as a practical element has been 
somewhat minimized by the lack of exact definitions and the 
consequent multitudinous interpretations both theoretical 
and practical. It has been opposed to or connected with 
almost all mental activities by different theologians and in 
different ages. The exact chronological position of faith 
has also been the cause of much discussion. 

“Augustine laid down the maxim that ‘faith precedes 
knowledge’; that is, a living experience of the gospel is req- 
uisite for insight into its meaning.... The priority of 
faith to religious science is at the basis of the scholastic 
philosophy of religion. ‘I believe in order that I may 


INTELLECT 315 


understand,’ is adopted as a ruling maxim by Anselm. ‘He 
who has not believed,’ he tells us, ‘has not experienced, and 
he who has not experienced will not understand.’ The heart 
anticipates the analytic work of the understanding. There 
is an inward certitude, founded on love to the contents of 
the gospel, and this love is the light of the soul. ‘The 
merit of faith,’ says Hugo of St. Victor, ‘consists in the fact 
that our conviction is determined by the affections, when no 
adequate knowledge is yet present. By faith we render our- 
selves worthy of knowledge, as perfect knowledge is the final 
reward of faith in the life eternal.’ As to the capacity of 
reason, Duns Scotus distinguishes between its power to 
discover truth for itself, and its power to recognize and ac- 
cept truth when it is communicated. Acquinas divides re- 
ligious truths into two classes; Such as are above reason, 
like the doctrine of the Trinity, and such as are ac- 
cessible to reason, like the doctrine of the being of one 
God" 

Among the recent attempts to solve the difficulty Leuba’ 
has divided the experiences into two classes, under the cap- 
tions of Faith-state and Faith-belief. Faith-state involves 
the whole man, similar to the emotions, and Faith-belief 
is the effect of this upon the intellectual life. ‘‘Faith-state is 
a particular emotion (probably identical with asexual love), 
specifically distinct from other emotions or sentiments, but 
entirely like them in what is distinctive in that class of ex- 
perience. From the point of view of development, Faith 
may appear as an inner adaptation, by which is established 
a living sense of relationship, nay, a union, between the indi- 
vidual and ideal powers. By this inner adaptation man 


1G. P. Fisher, History of the Christian Church, pp. 140 and 219. 

2J. H. Leuba, “Faith,” American Journal of Religious Psychology 
and Education, I, pp. 65-82; ‘‘Studies in the Psychology of Religious 
Phenomena,” American Journal of Psychology, VII, pp. 337-364. 


316 INTELLECT 


enters, to some extent, into possession of the virtues he con- 
ceives to adhere in the object of his faith and which he needs 
in order to satisfy his higher cravings.” ‘‘The core of the 
Faith-state is a particular attitude and an increased efficiency 
of the will in consequence of which an ideal of life becomes 
realizable. It is a constructive response to a need; a specific 
emotion of the sthenic type, subserving, as emotions do, 
a particular end.” 

It has long been recognized that belief, in the technical 
sense, could never be reduced to a simple assent, as Faraday 
and his sect maintained; but that faith must be vital and active, 
springing from the depths of the nature and controlling ex- 
ternal actions and conduct. It is this conception which 
justifies the above distinction, recognizing that faith is some- 
thing more than belief, but less than knowledge, and havy- 
ing in it a motive power which incites to action. Far from 
the intellectual being the only factor in faith, in what is 
designated as faith-state there may be a minimum of in- 
tellectual content, and then the state is largely emotional, 
akin to love. The idea of faith as an intellectual makeshift, 
to be substituted when knowledge fails us, is to be deprecated. 
In this way faith has been placed in antithesis to knowledge; 
religion has extolled faith as being an intellectual process 
of value where knowledge could not reach, while science has 
put forth the intellectual claims of knowledge as more cer- 
tain than faith. Faith, however, is still more comprehensive 
and contains in addition an important volitional element. 
Were it not for this, the Christian demand for faith would be 
without excuse. He who follows the commands of Christ, 
and uses his time and talents fazthjully, is a man of faith. 
A certain state, then, which comprehends all our mental 
factors, seems to be more descriptive of faith than any one 
element, and shows further how the different terms, love, 
faith, and doing, are but different view points of the same 


INTELLECT 317 


life-embracing condition. Any one of these carried to its 
logical conclusion, includes all the rest.’ 

We must not, however, eliminate the intellectual element, 
and thereby take a view as extreme as that which sees noth- 
ing but intellect in faith. In the intellectual realm, faith is 
more nearly related to belief than to cognition. The Object 
of religion, God, on account of characteristics as an Ideal, 
is more properly spoken of as an object of rational faith 
than as an object of knowledge. Faith, here, is not equiva- 
lent to mere belief, much less credulity, but is more compre- 
hensive and authoritative than either. This does not mean 
that faith may at any time be irrational and be of much 
service to religion; rational faith is the ideal which is or should 
be set before Christians. If this is true, then dogma must 
follow. If the content of our faith is rationally defensible, 
some authoritative formulation is inevitable, however much 
this may need to be changed as new facts are revealed, and 
however much error may creep into religion thereby. 

Faith carries with it two convictions concerning its object; 
first, it is convinced of its reality—something corresponding 
in reality to that in which it believes; second, the trust- 
worthiness of the object as one in which it can place con- 
fidence. In Christianity this is best manifested in the filial 
attitude. The true sons of God believe that He is, and 
that He is the rewarder of them that diligently seek Him. 
When this state is reached, then dogma is imperative. Faith 
may become a kind of self-knowledge, when it reveals the 
relation in which the self stands to its ideal; then judgments 
of worth are not the least of its value. Faith in the perfec- 
tion of God and His rule is the final triumph of righteous- 
ness, and is only achieved when the truths of revelation are 
coupled with the loftiest religious experience. 


1B. B. Warfield, Art. ‘‘Faith,” Hastings’s Bible Dictionary, I, pp. 
827 ff. 


CHAPTER XXII 
KNOWLEDGE 


“Give me the ocular proof;— 
Make me see ’t; or at least, so prove it, 
That the probation bear no hinge, no loop, 
To hang a doubt on.” —SHAKESPEARE. 


In the previous chapter we have discussed Belief and 
Faith and now come to consider knowledge. What is the 
distinction to be drawn between these three? In some 
minds it may be clear, but with a large majority of people a 
great vagueness exists. So lax have been the definitions 
that what one would define as belief or faith another would 
consider knowledge. One writer presents a series, ‘‘accord- 
ing to the measure of assurance, or the nature and cogency 
of the grounds,’ as follows: ‘‘knowledge, belief, faith, 
opinion, assumption, postulate, and finally, whim, prejudice, 
and superstition.”* Whether this series would be accepted 
by any one or not depends upon the definition and examples 
of each member of the series, and on these probably few 
would agree. These different factors would be in agree- 
ment in that all would be held for true by those experien- 
cing them, but there would be a difference in the attitude of 
mind toward them or in the nature of the grounds on which 
they were held. As these different forms shade off into one 
another, it is quite impossible to draw any hard and fast lines, 
and, in fact, it will be found that many writers so confound 
knowledge and belief, or that different writers use these 


*B. P. Bowne, Thesry of Thought and Knowledge, p. 367. 
318 


KNOWLEDGE 319 


terms so constantly for the same experience, that it will be 
especially difficult to separate these two. In the case of 
knowledge the conviction has more certainty and there 
must also be some correlate in reality. 

The demand to know is fundamental to our natures, but 
the attempt to supply this demand is fraught with many 
difficulties. In our present study we shall find it quite im- 
possible to separate philosophy from our psychological dis- 
cussion. From the psychological point of view, the ob- 
jective validity of an act of knowledge has no part in our 
discussion at all. We, as psychologists, are confined in our 
investigations to the phenomena of consciousness as such, 
and an hallucination or an illusion is as valid a psycholog- 
ical factor for investigation as the most certain product 
of cognition. Whether a thing is externally true or false 
is not our concern psychologically. We are privileged to 
examine the activities of mind involved in an act of knowl- 
edge, but we can never reach a completed act through psy- 
chology; knowledge must always involve metaphysics be- 
cause it contains an assumption of reality and reaches out 
and grasps the transcendent. Psychology considers all cog- 
nitions of whatever kind as merely subjective phenomena, 
and but leads up to the philosophical inquiry concerning 
the validity of such cognitions. For psychology, cognition 
is simply a process in my consciousness; philosophy is curi- 
ous to know if anything really exists which corresponds to this 
cognition. 

While we may seem to have defined and separated the 
work of psychology and philosophy in respect to knowledge, 
we shall find that practically this division is not so easy, for in 
every problem the two fields overlap. In our psychological 
examination it is difficult to reach any practical religious 
conclusions without taking into account some philosophical 
implications or assumptions, and even with all help from 


320 KNOWLEDGE 


every source our task will not be easy. Professor James well 
says: ‘Now the relation of knowing is the most mysterious 
thing in the world. ... Knowledge becomes for him [the 
psychologist] an ultimate felation that must be admitted, 
whether it be explained or not, just like difference or re- 
semblance, which no one seeks to explain.” * This is true 
of all knowledge, and just as true of religious as of other 
kinds. 

There has been a disposition to consider religious knowl- 
edge of a lower order than some other kinds—scientific 
knowledge, for instance—if, indeed, we could claim any 
real knowledge for religious experience at all. Some have 
not regretted this supposed condition, for it left, as they 
thought, more room for the exercise of faith. Now, both 
science and religion assume that reality can be known, and 
one should have no more doubt of the one than of the other. 
The only absolutely indisputable knowledge which the in- 
dividual can possess, is that reached by self-consciousness, 
in the here and now existence of the individual experiencing 
it. This is the ultimate of ultimates. But are we to con- 
fine ourselves to this? ‘This, it is true, is the pinnacle of 
knowledge and the place from which we must start, but to 
accept nothing which does not carry with it the same cer- 
tainty would sentence us to the most irretrievable solipsism. 

We must recognize degrees of knowledge, and that the 
knowing experience of every man’s consciousness must be 
our standard, rather than the conviction of self-existence. 
Perhaps we may say that not a large number of our con- 
victions can lay claim to knowledge, but that most of them 
must be classed under the rubric of beliefs. The difficulty 
in the past has been that in religion we have tried to depend 
on pure reason. Whether religion is the object or not, the 
use of pure reason can do no better than to land us in solip- 


*W. James, Principles of Psychology, I, p. 216. 


KNOWLEDGE Son 


sism; the negative epistemological attitude toward religion 
has also helped in this direction. Three things we must 
recognize if we are to obtain a correct viewpoint of 
knowledge: the cognitive process uses the whole mind, and 
a description and explanation of cognition lays tribute 
to no less than the whole of psychology; we must take the 
positive attitude and doubt nothing for which we have not a 
reason; knowledge is knowledge regardless of the object 
known. 

The epistemological problems in religion are of consider- 
able importance, for we must depend on epistemology to 
guard us against incorrect conclusions on the one hand, and 
scepticism on the other. The nature and value of the evi- 
dence must be the problem of psychology and philosophy 
in our examination of religious cognition. To discuss the 
matter in all its aspects we should concern ourselves with 
“the nature and limits of religious knowledge, the extent 
and validity of the grounds on which religious faith or be- 
lief reposes, and the origin and trustworthiness of those 
standards of truth of fact and of conception which influence 
so powerfully the religious experience.”* Can a man really 
attain a cognition of God? The only way in which he could 
have an indubitable knowledge of Him would be by identify- 
ing God with himself, but he may have a knowledge of God 
as sure as Other forms of knowledge, with the exception, of 
course, of that of his present existence. The nature of the 
proof of this knowledge we will take up later. Can my indi- 
vidual religious experience be justified as knowledge, having 
a correlate in reality and being of worth? ‘The answer to this 
question must also be deferred until we consider more fully 
the nature of evidence. The mere statement of these and 
similar questions, however, shows how dependent is religion 
upon epistemological assumptions and explanations. 


1G. T. Ladd, The Philosophy of Religion, I, p. 23. 


322 KNOWLEDGE 


We must not forget that not only is religious knowledge 
the same as other kinds, but that religion grows in essentially 
the same way as all other kinds of human knowledge. In 
primitive times “the germs of knowledge are given in obscure 
and unintelligible forms of feeling, in the half-blind play of 
fantasy and imagination, and in the doing of deeds whose 
motives are not recognized and whose import is by no means 
clearly conceived. ‘This is the stage in the evolution of re- 
ligious knowledge where mythology plays so important 
and controlling a part.”* This stage of human develop- 
ment, in any sphere, is always slow, and the growth of knowl- 
edge is not rapid; but the important part to be noted is that 
in the history of the race knowledge is a development, and the 
same thing may be predicated regarding the history of the » 
individual. In its most simple form, Christianity makes a 
demand upon us which amounts to a knowledge of the 
world’s fundamentals. To respond to this, a lukewarm 
faith will not answer, but an indisputable and unshakeable 
conviction alone fulfils the demand. Can we have it? 
Is it not asking too much of epistemology? Is it reason- 
able ? 

It has already been stated that the process of knowledge, 
for knowledge is a process rather than mere states of con- 
sciousness, makes use of the whole mind. Knowledge is 
usually considered an intellectual process (and hence the 
position of this chapter); but while it is that, it is not that 
only. It is neither intellect nor feeling nor will, but all com- 
bined; it is an affair of all the mental processes. In addition 
to this, cognition implicates the transcendent, for the facts 
of consciousness are not themselves intelligible without the 
assumption of extra-mental reality on which consciousness 
depends. In view of these facts, it may be profitable for us 
to endeavor to designate the part taken in cognition by the 

1G. T. Ladd, The Philosophy of Religion, I, p. 427. 


KNOWLEDGE 323 


intellect, feelings, and will, so far as we are able to separate 
them. 

In the reaction against the position that knowledge was a 
purely intellectual process, there has been a tendency to 
minimize the réle of the intellect. Feeling has been cor- 
respondingly over-emphasized, and hence an ill-balanced 
psychology of knowledge, different but not much superior 
to the former one-sided view, has sprung up. It is well to 
note at the beginning of our analysis or criticism that we are 
limited in our work by the faculty we are endeavoring to 
analyze or criticize. There is no superhuman knowledge, 
no unconscious knowledge, no knowledge other than just 
what all men have by which we can measure or criticize our 
knowledge, and with this and this only we must go for- 
ward. 

We must both believe and think in order to know; think- 
ing and cognition are inseparable. It is the function of think- 
ing to lead us up to a judgment based on recognized grounds. 
A judgment is a sine qua non of all knowledge, although the 
grounds of the judgment come from all sources; when think- 
ing brings us to this judgment, then we have cognition. The 
grounds upon which so-called science reposes, and the logical 
processes leading up from these grounds to its conclusions, 
are by some supposed to be alone worthy to be called cog- 
nition. Any statement of this kind must define cognition in 
such a narrow way as to include this alone, and posit a stan- 
dard for grounds which would eliminate knowledge entirely 
from some lives, if not entirely from the lives of all men, if 
carried to its logical conclusions. Whether the knowledge 
be that of science or of religion it is the same thing. Knowl- 
edge is not of different kinds, but the judgment of sufficient 
reason is founded on different grounds. Nor do we gain 
much by calling one experience knowledge, another belief, 
and another faith; for none of these, with the exception al- 


324 KNOWLEDGE 


ready noted of the present existence of the thinker, can claim 
any more than a higher or lower degree of probability re- 
garding the real existence of their objects. The knowledge 
of one man is not so rational nor so certain as the belief or 
faith of another. 

Much of the growth of the particular sciences and of re- 
ligious faith has consisted in finding out that not a little of 
that which was thought to be assuredly known was not even 
worthy of belief, and that many of the insights of faith have 
been anticipations of future assured knowledge. This does 
not mean that we can place no reliance upon knowledge, 
and that we are floundering around in a sea of uncertainty, 
but that we must put more rather than less confidence in the 
reason, for knowledge implies that there exist certain uni- 
versal standards of a rational order, upon which we can and 
must rely. In our endeavor to know we must constantly 
judge of the meaning of things, 7. e., we must interpret, and 
no knowledge can exist without this interpretation, whether it 
be of things, or of selves, or of God; and the more we are 
able to interpret the more knowledge we really have. Of 
course, we can never interpret fully, for in those things which 
we think we know best there is always a suggestion of more 
beyond and below which we do not know. But in this inter- 
pretation the intellect is used, in addition to the judgment 
of the meaning, in the comprehension of the relation of this 
object to other things, for a unity of all knowledge is implied, 
and unless we can bring an object into this unity it cannot 
be known; and unless the self can be brought into this unity 
it cannot know things. 

Solipsism and agnosticism may be acceptable in satisfying 
our intellectual demands for an account of the genesis and 
development of other experiences, but both or either are 
utterly insufficient to satisfy the demands in the ethical or 
religious sphere. It is in these interpretations and relating 


KNOWLEDGE 325 


judgments that the intellect is of especial value in religion 
and morals, and in its criticism which keeps religion from 
errors. Reason must try the beliefs, it must see that they 
have rational, or at least not irrational, grounds. It must 
recognize the validity of these grounds, it must systematize. 
Knowledge must be both rationalized and systematized in 
order to be called by that name; it is self-evident in the nature 
of reason, except it be immediately given in experience, 
when it is not irrational nor free from the intellectual ele- 
ment. We are not depending on argument to-day for the 
basis of our religious knowledge; the historic arguments for 
the being of God have been relegated to the philosophical 
museums, notwithstanding the fact that some of them possess 
value. We are depending now on the mind as a whole 
rather than upon a fraction—the intellect—for our grounds 
of faith, or belief, or knowledge. 

As a factor in knowledge the feelings have lately come into 
prominence. There has been much in the past to justify 
the suspicion of appeals to feeling, for the appeals to feeling 
have usually hidden irrationality. The feeling to which 
we appeal to-day is that which is in harmony with reason. 
No longer do we make the claim that ignorance and lack of 
reason are the mother of devotion; no longer do we endeavor 
to ‘‘remove knowledge to make room for faith”; now we 
go to the other extreme and define knowledge and belief and 
faith in terms of emotion only, as, e. g., belief is a ‘‘sort of 
feeling more allied to the emotions than to anything else,” 
and belief is “the ‘emotion’ of conviction.” True it is 
that a distinctive characteristic is found in feeling. When 
we say “‘I feel sure,”’ what do we mean but “I know”? This 
feeling sure is fundamental, but is, let us again remind our- 
selves, not irrational, and as such is symptomatic of knowl- 
edge. 

Even apart from this there is no such thing as a perfectly 


326 KNOWLEDGE 


cold belief in which no feeling enters, but in every finished 
act of knowledge feelings of various kinds act indirectly by 
modifying the processes of ideation themselves; they also 
accompany the ideational and conative processes. Not only 
are they a part of every act of knowledge, but they carry 
their credentials with them, and when emotion accompanies 
any conception it is thereby strongly affirmed. Feeling 
may at times be more reliable than thought, and some truths 
may be reached most readily by this means. 

Beside the feeling of certainty there is another character- 
istic feeling of cognition; this is the reality feeling. I am 
not sure that I have this properly classed as a feeling, for it 
has other elements in it and is called by others “Belief in 
reality” or ‘‘ Metaphysical belief,” but if belief has an emo- 
tional definition, we are still correct in this classification. It 
seems, however, that the reality experience comes as a matter 
of feeling rather than of intellection, and is of such importance 
that we cannot experience knowledge without it. The ex- 
planation of this belief or feeling must be left to philosophy 
rather than to psychology, together with the many other prob- 
lems which arise from and with it. 

Logical feelings are regulative. Not only do these feel- 
ings accompany the logical processes, but they regulate and 
influence them. Our feelings notify us of the correctness or 
fallacy of the logical processes. Often we feel the grating 
of the fallacy before we are able to point it out, or we recog- 
nize with some degree of pleasure the correct logical conclu- 
sion. We feel logical principles, and judgment in this as 
well as in other cases may be but an expression of feeling. 
The roots .of our belief may lie in the sub-logical realm of 
emotion and interest, and our conviction will vary as the 
tides of feeling rise and fall. 

When a belief is thus sustained by a feeling it will decline 
with a lapse of feeling. The cooling of emotional fervor 


KNOWLEDGE 327 


causes the occasional lapses seen in religious belief. The 
emotional stimulus being lacking, the imagination fails to 
rise to the needed point of vividness and the mind loses its 
hold on reality. The certitude in religious affairs is desig- 
nated as follows: “The reason of the belief is undoubtedly 
the bodily commotion which the exciting idea sets up. ‘Noth- 
ng which I can feel like that can be false.’ All our religious 
and supernatural beliefs are of this order. The surest 
warrant for immortality is the yearning of our bowels for 
our dear ones: for God, the sinking sense it gives us to imag- 
ine.no such Providence or help.”* Some would go still 
further in making feelinga direct source of external knowledge, 
especially in religion.” The pendulum may have swung too 
far, but we do know that moral, religious, and esthetic 
judgments rest more on feeling than on intellection. 

Some of the mystics, however, hold the more extreme view. 
Inge designated the value and limits of ‘‘the inner light” as 
follows: ‘‘The inner light can only testify to spiritual truths. 
It always speaks in the present tense; it cannot guarantee 
any -historical event, past or future. It cannot guarantee 
either the Gospel history or a future judgment. It can tell 
us that Christ is risen, and that He is alive for evermore, 
but not that He rose again the third day. It can tell us that 
the gate of everlasting life is open, but not that the dead shall 
be raised incorruptible. We have other faculties for in- 
vestigating the evidence for past events; the inner light can- 
not certify them immediately, though it can give a powerful 
support to the external evidence.’’ We should, however, 
quote further so that this writer should not be misunderstood. 
“Now the study of primitive religions does seem to me to 
prove the danger of resting religion and morality on unreason- 


1'W. James, Principles of Psychology, I, p. 308. 
2 E. D. Starbuck, ‘‘The Feelings and their Place in Religion,’ Amert- 
can Journal of Religious Psychology and Education, I, pp. 168-186. 


328 KNOWLEDGE 


ing obedience to a supposed revelation; but that is not my 
position. . . . A theology based on mere feeling is (as Hegel 
said) as much contrary to revealed religion as to rational 
knowledge. The fact that God is present to our feeling is no 
proof that He exists; our feelings include imaginations which 
have no reality corresponding to them. No, it is not feel- 
ing, but the heart or reason (whichever term we prefer), 
which speaks with authority. By the heart or reason I 
mean the whole personality acting in concord, an abiding 
mood of thinking, willing, and feeling.” * 

There are some whose temperament is such that their only 
source of religious knowledge, 7. e., only source of indubi- 
table conviction, is the feelings, and with all of us this must 
be true to a greater or less degree. On account of the 
comprehensiveness of the states of religion it alters itself with 
the affective life, as well as on account of the deeper experi- 
ences being inexpressible in words; the subconscious ele- 
ments, which by some are included in the affective class, 
and which form an important if not easily defined factor, 
also ally religous knowledge to the feeling element. Re- 
ligious feeling should never be an end as some fanatics 
have made it in the past, but as with some of the primary 
religious feelings already mentioned, it should furnish a 
form of criterion which must be satisfied if we are to have 
religious knowledge. We have feeling at the two extremes of 
knowledge; on the one hand, a certain amount of emotional 
excitement is unfavorable to knowledge, and on the other 
hand, that highest form of knowledge, self-consciousness, 
is dependent upon feeling. Feeling is valuable; there can 
be no knowledge without it; but feeling in itself is not 
enough. Feeling and intellect blend in cognition. Things 
are known to be what they are because they are both felt 
and judged to be so. 

1W. R. Inge, Christian Mysticism, pp. 326 and 330 f. 


KNOWLEDGE 320 


But we must go a step further. Religion is a life, and 
neither an intellectual nor emotional system. If this is so, 
there must be an element of will in religious knowledge—in 
fact in all knowledge. When we know a thing we are ready 
to act. The practical life is at once a source of belief and 
the test of its validity. We find the best grounds for the 
grand universal beliefs in their very universality and necessity. 
The things which have an intimate and continuous connec- 
tion with my life are the things of whose reality I have an 
indubitable conviction—a knowledge. The fact that man 
is will as well as intellect and feeling, makes knowledge what 
it is. Will, rather than the understanding, declares the case 
closed, and it is the practical necessity of doing something 
that compels the conclusion. At bottom, knowledge or a 
conviction, means the willingness to proceed to act accord- 
ing to the conclusion. It is this practical, living, compre- 
hensive view of religious knowledge which saves it from the 
excessive coolness of a merely logical or strictly scientific 
view on the one side, or the excessive heat of a purely emo- 
tional view on the other, and causes these two to blend in 
practical application to real life. 

The grounds for religious knowledge are found neither 
in an institution nor a book, but in a life or experience. 
“One thing I know, that whereas I was blind now I see” 
comes to us from the depths of practical life and is indubitable. 
The experience of coming into opposition with other wills, 
and of coming in contact with things which do not conform 
to my will in a practical way, gives me to a great extent my 
knowledge of reality. Action, experience, is the key to self- 
knowledge as well as to the knowledge of other selves and 
things. Voluntary attention, that key to all knowledge, 
implicates the will whenever it is exercised. By our will- 
ing and experiencing reactions from will we procure our 
knowledge to a great extent of things and other selves. 


330 KNOWLEDGE 


Pragmatic we are, and pragmatic we must be in order to 
know. 

We have gone a long way around to endeavor to answer | 
one question, v7z., Can we have religious knowledge? ‘The 
answer is already apparent. Only those whose idea of 
knowledge is that it is an affair of the intellect alone could 
deny it, and in taking this position they do not save scientific 
knowledge for themselves as they attempt to do, but debar 
all knowledge. We may have more than opinions concern- 
ing religions, we may have knowledge as surely as we can 
of any other subject; and while not all reports of religion are 
to be trusted without examination, any more than all sup- 
posed scientific reports are to be received in this way, yet 
there are some which readily find acceptance because they 
stand the practical test, and this is the test which science tries 
to use. Prof. Ladd well says, ‘Cognition cannot be con- 
sidered apart from life. Whatever kind of value knowledge 
has, and whatever degree is attainable in any particular 
kind of value, knowledge is also always means to an end 
that lies above itself.’” 

Taking this teleological view of knowledge, and recogniz- 
ing that it looks up to the ideal of life which has supreme 
worth, «sthetical, ethical and religious elements cannot be 
excluded from a full treatment of knowledge. Even Kant, 
who marshalled religious and ethical knowledge out of the 
front door with such a forbidding manner, received them in 
the back door under the name of faith, and guaranteed them 
with all the certainty of rational conviction. ‘Those things 
which we know with the greatest certainty are not those 
which we can demonstrate by a mathematical formula or 
by a logical syllogism, because they are a product of the 
whole mind and not simply of the intellect. Religious ele- 
ments come under this class. If other forms of knowledge 

1G. T. Ladd, Philosophy of Knowledge, p. 232. 


KNOWLEDGE 331 


could be obtained without the use of the whole mind this 
would not be true of religious knowledge, for since religion 
is mentally comprehensive, so, in order to have religious cog- 
nition, the whole mind—the life of man—must be used.’ 


1 Anyone familiar with Professor Ladd’s works will recognize the 
great debt I am under to them for material in this chapter. To study 
the problem of knowledge Professor Ladd’s works must be consulted 
first, last and all the time, for they give us by far the most compre- 
hensive treatise in English, if not in any tongue. See G. T. Ladd, 
Philosophy of Knowledge (entire); Theory of Reality, chapters XV-XX; 
Psychology, Descriptive and Explanatory, chapters XX-XXII; beside 
numerous references in Philosophy of Religion, I and II, and Philosophy 
of Mind. 


CHAPTER XXIII 
IMAGINATION 


‘Tell me where is fancy bred, 
Or in the heart or in the head? 
How begot, how nourished ?” 
—SHAKESPEARE. 


Any reference to the use of the imagination in religious 
experiences is usually intended to imply that the experience 
is proportionally degraded or unreliable, according to the 
extent to which the imagination is employed. When one 
person wishes to discredit the religious statements of another, 
and says, ‘You imagined that,’ nothing further is con- 
sidered necessary for condemnation. On the contrary, 
the imagination is one of the most valuable mental allies 
which religion has, and without it religion would not only be 
impoverished, but could not possibly be experienced by 
man as we now know him. 

In saying this we are not discrediting religion in the least. 
The statement might just as well be made of science as of 
religion. In fact, there is no form of knowledge possible 
without the aid of both the reproductive and the creative 
imagination. ‘The great general, the successful statesman, 
and the trustworthy historian are powerless without the 
plenary use of the imagination, and contrary to general be- 
lief no other forms of knowledge make more severe demands 
upon it than modern chemistry, physics, and other sciences. 
Listen to these words from one of the greatest of modern 
scientists: “ Ask your imagination if it will accept a vibrating 

332 


IMAGINATION 333 


multiple proportion—a numerical ratio in a state of oscilla- 
tion? I do not think that it will. You cannot crown the 
edifice with this abstraction. The scientific imagination 
which is here authoritative, demands, as the origin and cause 
of a series of ether waves, a particle of vibrating matter quite 
as definite, though it may be excessively minute, as that 
which gives origin to a musical sound.’’* 

Not only is it true that modern scientific theories like 
those of atoms, molecules, and ions, put a great strain on the 
imagination, but the possibility of their continuing to be 
accepted for as long a time as the products of the imagination 
in religious realms will be is very small. The flights of the 
Psalmist’s imagination are still current in religious thinking 
and experience, but where is the science of his time? It 
might almost be stated, judging from the past, that the relia- 
bility of the religious and scientific imagination is in the pro- 
portion of millenniums to decades. 

In science, religion, or art the same imagination is em- 
ployed; it is governed by the same laws, aided by the same 
reason, and inspired by similar emotions. There are some 
minor differences. Science endeavors to begin with the use 
of the perceptive faculties, tries to start with sensuous fact. 
Both religion and art separate the imagination from the 
matter-of-fact point of view, and claim that the spiritual eye 
distinguishes that which is of real value. Percepts simply 
inspire the soul to penetrate to the real facts which are not 
experienced by the senses, to which science trusts. 

“The distinction between poetry and science, or myth and 
science, or religious myth and religious truth, is not, indeed, 
the same as the distinction between the work of pure fancy 
and the work of pure intellect.”” Purity ceased when faculty 
psychology declined. ‘‘ Poetry and myth both have their 


1J. Tyndall, Fragments of Science, p. 423. The italics are mine. 
See his whole address on the Scientific Use of the Imagination. 


334 IMAGINATION 


place in the development of the intellectual as well as of the 
artistic life of man.’ In the last analysis the difference be- 
tween the imaginative and the scientifically intellectual is a 
shifting one, and depends on the way they fit into the 
totality of human experience.’ ; 

The product of the imagination is found in two forms, and 
probably the confusion of these has brought whatever dis- 
paragement is connected with it. Psychologically there is 
little or no difference between the two, but the value of the 
results causes us to make a division, although they are both 
prominent in religion. The less reasonable and more ethereal 
form, usually called “‘ fancy,’”’ must be distinguished from the 
logical and solid work of the imagination, and it is with the 
latter that we are more particularly concerned in our present 
study. Ruskin draws some sharp distinctions between fancy 
and the imagination peculiarly adapted, as we would sup- 
pose, to art, but not foreign to use in religion. He says, 
“Fancy has to do with the outsides of things, and is content 
therewith. She can never feel, but is one of the most purely 
and simply intellectual of the faculties. She cannot be made 
serious: no edge-tool, but she will play with: whereas the imag- 
ination is in all things the reverse. She cannot but be serious; 
she sees too far, too darkly, too solemnly, too earnestly, ever 
to smile. . . . There is reciprocal action between the inten- 
sity of moral feeling and the power of imagination. Hence 
the powers of the imagination may always be tested by accom- 
panying tenderness of emotion. . . . Imagination is quiet, 
fancy restless; fancy details, imagination suggests. . . . All 
egotism is destructive of imagination whose play and power 
depend altogether on our being able to forget ourselves. . . . 
Imagination has no respect for sayings or opinions: it is 
independent.” ” 


1G. T. Ladd, The Philosophy of Religion, I, p. 318. 
3 J. Ruskin, Modern Painters, I, chap. III. 


IMAGINATION 335 


Connected and usually associated with the intellect on one 
side, the closest relative of imagination is the memory, from 
which it is not clearly distinguished by some writers. The 
principal difference between the two is that the objects of 
memory are attached to certain times and places and must 
always be considered in relation to these, while imagination 
is absolved from such limitations. This allows the imagina- 
tion to. create a very wide variety of objects of which it has 
had no experience, and yet which are not antithetical to ex- 
perience. For after all it is the self which imagines, and it 
does not, cannot, imagine that which is at variance with the 
other aspects of self, the intellect, emotions, and will. So the 
product of imagination is particularly valuable and has a 
basis in reality, in the explanation it presents for real ex- 
periences, while not having been really experienced itself. 

Perhaps in no other conscious factor do we so clearly see 
the working of the subconscious as in the creative imagina- 
tion. Judgment is subconsciously given to the product, and 
the result is something which is new and yet which is not 
antagonistic to the reason. As is so well illustrated in genius, 
although the product comes to consciousness ready made 
and without conscious effort having been expended, it shows 
the effect of mental work and poise. Sometimes the person 
may sit by almost as a spectator and wonder what is coming 
next, so completely does the subconsciousness rather than the 
consciousness seem to produce the images. 

Many of the mystics exalt imagination, and make it the 
chief religious factor. Wordsworth, for example, says that it 
is at once “more than reason” and ‘‘reason in her most ex- 
alted mood.”’ St. Teresa, on the contrary, does not give the 
supreme credit to the imagination. She says,in a passage 
already quoted, “ Like imperfect sleep which instead of giv- 
ing more strength to the head, doth but leave it the more 
exhausted, the result of mere operations of the imagina- 


336 IMAGINATION 


tion is but to weaken the soul. Instead of nourishment 
and energy she reaps only lassitude and disgust: whereas 
a genuinely heavenly vision yields to her a harvest of in- 
effable spiritual riches, and an admirable reward of bodily 
strength.” 

A faculty so varied in its use would naturally be detrimental 
at times as well as useful. Fanatics are usually very imag- 
inative and have, in connection with this, emotions which 
are allied to hope and presumption more closely than to fear 
and despondency. They therefore think that they are espe- 
cially favored of God, and that the vagaries of their imagi- 
nations are the truths of the Almighty. While imagination 
cannot be divorced from emotion, it must be especially allied 
with reason to be of the most eminent service to religion. 
Jonathan Edwards seems to recognize the injury which 
might come from a passionate and unreasonable imagina- 
tion. He says, ‘‘ The imagination seems to be that wherein 
are formed all those delusions of Satan which carry away 
those who are under the influence of false religion and 
counterfeit graces and affections. There is the devil’s 
grand lurking place, the very nest of unholy and delusive 
spirits.” 

We have some splendid examples of this in the ‘Great 
Awakening” with which Edwards was connected, and in 
many revivals since that time. In 1742, after Whitefield’s 
visit to Scotland, where he held revival meetings which were 
attended by physical phenomena not uncommon to the 
times, a discussion arose mainly centering around the imag- 
ination. The defenders of Whitefield and of the revival 
preached and wrote apologies. They said, ‘‘We cannot 
think upon anything invisible without some degree of imag- 
ination; the images of spiritual things must be represented 
by our fancy; we can have no thought of God or Christ with- 
out some degree of imagination, and imaginary ideas of 


IMAGINATION 337 


Christ, as man, are consistent with true faith.” The oppo- 
sition was headed by Rev. Ralph Erskine who preached on the 
subject and finally wrote a book entitled, “‘Faith no Fancy; 
or a Treatise of Mental Images.”” This must not be confused 
with another of his writings, ‘‘ Fancy no Faith, a Seasonable 
Admonition.”” Erskine’s declaration was that many of the 
then current delusions concerning the religion of Christ were 
produced by Satan through a false inspiration of the imagi- 
nation. This was substantially Edwards’ view, but the latter 
also taught that in some the false impressions on the imagina- 
tion react on their affections, with the result that the delusions 
of the imagination are raised to the vividness of divine 
authoritative truth. Edwards also concurs with Erskine as 
to Satan’s agency in times of awakenings.’ 

While it is well to be warned concerning a contingent evil, 
we are as much concerned with the use of the imagination 
and its value to religious life and progress. Connected with 
the intellect, its employment is not only valuable but neces- 
sary to religion. 

“Religion, however, stands in special need of this process of 
separation and purification for the work which it calls upon 
the creative imagination to perform; and the chief reasons 
for this need are the following two. Its primary beliefs are 
essentially of the in-visible, the non-sensible, the somehow 
super-human, the Self that is other than my self. Moreover, 
the practical and emotional interests to which the work of 
the religious imagination is committed are so immediate and 
pressing as the more easily to override the considerations 
upon which the scientific development of man lays such 
peculiar emphasis. . . . The religious development of man- 
kind is dependent upon the harmonious activity of imagi- 
nation and intellect in providing an Object [of religious 
belief] which shall both accord with scientific development, 

1G. W. Hervey, The Imagination in Revivals. 


338 IMAGINATION 


and shall also keep pace with the improvement of the ethical 
and esthetical feelings, and with the growing practical and 
social needs of the race.” * 

There has been a general under-estimation of the exalted 
work which the creative imagination has been called upon to 
do. Some, however have recognized it. Bushnell and 
Drummond taught that imagination was the sole arbiter of 
faith because religious truths could only be set forth in fig- 
ures of speech; figures of speech make great demands on the 
imagination. ‘Christ,’ said Bushnell, “‘is God’s last meta- 
phor!”? Bushnell goes on to define imagination as ‘the 
power that distinguishes truth in their images and seizes 
hold. of images for the expression of truths.” A person de- 
void, to any extent, of imaginative ability cannot appro- 
priate religion, and it is such a person who usually makes 
such a bungle of reading the Old Testament. The Old 
Testament taken literally and not allowing for Hebrew 
figures of speech is filled with snares, inconsistencies, and 
untruths; but read, as it was written, with a knowledge 
of eastern imagery, it conveys grand and eternal truths 
to us. 

The spheres of reason and imagination are different, al- 
though they may be complementary. Questions which rea- 
son finds contradictory are accepted by the imagination, be- 
cause the latter cannot imagine the opposite. We cannot, for 
example, imagine anything else than that God should be 
sovereign and that man should be free. The reason and 
imagination may combine in other doctrines. It is impos- 
sible to imagine atheism, for neither the imagination nor rea- 
son are satisfied with the image. Neither can we imagine the 
universe without a purpose or end, but the imagination rests 
in the personality of God. We might continue to show that 
our religious knowledge is considerably influenced by the 

1G. T. Ladd, Philosophy of Religion, I, p. 319 f. 


IMAGINATION 339 


imagination. The apostle says that we walk by faith, not by 
sight; here faith is used in the sense of imagination not of 
trust. The writer of the Hebrews defines faith in the lan- 
guage of imagination as the “assurance of things hoped for, 
the conviction of things not seen,” and the whole of this 
eleventh chapter illustrates this definition and shows how we 
are able to see “ Him who is invisible.” * 

The pictorial representation of the object of religious faith 
has always had a wide influence in Christianity, and its form 
is an index to the value of religion. For example, the picture 
of the Virgin and Holy Child has had a potent influence for 
good in Roman Catholic Europe, notwithstanding the fact 
that there has been associated with it and similar works of 
art a counter and degrading influence. But it is the work of 
creating the ideas of invisible and spiritual powers which 
has proven to be the great task of the imagination in connec- 
tion with the intellect. Man alone is able to do this, and in 
primitive races the confusion of the elements cf these ideas 
has made it difficult at times to distinguish between magic 
and religion. In primitive religions, the imagination local- 
ized its ideals in the sticks and stones, giving imagined attri- 
butes to the things which were visible and tangible, these 
attributes coinciding with the invisible and intangible ex- 
periences of self-consciousness. Thus we have what is 
known as nature worship.’ 

In the highest development of man’s religious experience, 
imagination creates for us the ideal of a Divine Being, which, 
while not contrary to reason or experience, is not confined to 
the totality of experience or visible existence. God is created 
in demand for an ideal, and also to explain experience. It is 
in the matter of ideals and the relation of ideals to conduct 


1 For the development of these points see the very suggestive book, 
E. H. Johnson, The Religious Use of the Imagination. 
2G. T. Ladd, Philosophy of Religion, I, p. 368. 


340 IMAGINATION 


that imagination stands supreme. Character is regulated by 
ideals. The idea which we hold before us is externalized in 
conduct, for our ideas tend always to express themselves. 
With the ideal before us imagination becomes strong to 
overcome evil and crystallize the good. For instance, if one 
imagines Christ, His way of doing things, His thoughts, His 
words, he becomes a copy of Christ, for what he has in mind 
is the Christlike life. Thus the ideals and doctrines which 
are imagined are the ones which live in our lives; the unim- 
agined ones die. ‘These ideals, above all else, are both 
sources and stimuli of man’s religious life and develop- 
ment. Whether in primitive man or in the example of the 
highest development of the race all the philosophical con- 
ceptions are dependent on the imagination, and the dif- 
ference between the two is not in the imagination but in 
the training and development of the two classes. The 
product of the imagination must be tested therefore by 
the experience of the race judged from a scientific stand- 
point. 

Johnson concludes his treatise with the following words: 

‘This aim has been to show that the imagination has al- 
ways been sufficiently at the service of religion to account for 
the persistence among Christians of certain elevated beliefs, 
but not sufficiently to provide for an average of piety and 
virtue proportionate to the elevation of those beliefs. As to 
the beliefs the significant facts are: first, that in each in- 
stance these characteristically Christian beliefs strike the 
imagination. Secondly, ideas which imagination keeps in 
full view enjoy in this way quite exclusively the advantage, 
or incur the disadvantage, of being put to the test of experi- 
ence. Thirdly, having been so tried and attested by all the 
Christian centuries, these salient, imaginable, and charac- 
teristically Christian ideas are for substance steadily held by 
the church with all the depth and tenacity of conviction 


IMAGINATION 341 


which experience alone can afford. ... The conclusion of 
this whole contention is that the essentials of Christian truth 
are always apprehensible; imagination catches them and 
never lets them go.” ! 


1E. H. Johnson, The Religious Use of the Imagination, pp. 217-220. 


CHAPTER XXIV 
INSPIRATION 


**O, for a muse of fire, that would ascend 
The brightest heaven of invention.” 
—SHAKESPEARE. 


In all stages of man’s religious development it has been 
believed that in some way the gods have made themselves 
known to men, have revealed their wills, and have influenced 
their devotees. The followers of every religion believe that 
somehow their tenets are a distinct revelation. The religion 
which depends on any scriptures, considers them but a record 
of revelations which have been vouchsafed to their repre- 
sentatives, and in the more primitive cults revelations con- 
tinually take place through favored individuals. The belief 
in revelation, which is thus so common to man, is born of 
the need for such a belief. It is necessary to explain certain 
religious problems and to furnish certain assumptions. Re- 
ligion must have some authority and this must come through 
revelation. Certain events cannot be explained without cer- 
tain causes which revelation furnishes, and the only knowl- 
edge we can have of future life, here and hereafter, comes 
through revelation. Without some such beliefs religion 
would not be possible. 

If the Deity reveals Himself to man, then man discovers 
God, and the statement of the fact may be made from either 
standpoint without changing the real meaning. What we 
know theologically as God’s revealing Himself, we may 
know psychologically as man’s receiving a revelation, for 

342 


INSPIRATION 343 


without man’s receiving there can be no revelation, at least 
none of which we know. The very nature of religion makes 
it possible for the Infinite to reveal Himself through finite 
beings, and through finite beings only. The co-operation of 
man is, therefore, required, and the character of man, singly 
or in groups, conditions the character of the revelation. 
Thus, the psychological development of the race at any time, 
and the peculiar historical and physical conditions with 
which it is surrounded, circumscribe and limit the revelation 
which may be received in any era. 

The founders of religions, however, are considered special 
and supreme mediums of revelation, and the message which 
comes through them is not always looked upon as condi- 
tioned by the times in which they lived to the same extent as 
other revelations. Next in importance to the revelation 
which is given through the founders, is the message of the 
teachers of religion, the prophets, and the leaders of reform 
movements. These few men in an age or in the history of 
a religion lead the others, and it is to them that we owe the 
growth of religious thought and conceptions. In accounting 
for the fact we find the doctrines of Inspiration and of Reve- 
lation inseparably bound together. The concept of revela- 
tion is undoubtedly primary, but that of inspiration is a nec- 
essary correlate. “Inspiration is the subjective or inward 
influence upon the whole mental life, which makes possible 
the revelation.” ’ 

Among primitive people demoniac possession, witchcraft, 
ecstasy, epilepsy, and other abnormal phenomena were con- 
stantly associated with inspiration. However different pos- 
session and inspiration may be theologically, they mean much 
the same thing when viewed from a psychological stand- 
point. The inspiration of the early Hebrew prophets con- 
forms rather more closely to our idea of possession than to 

1G. T. Ladd, Philosophy of Religion, II, p. 420. 


344 INSPIRATION 


that of inspiration, if we may judge from the accounts which 
we have in the Old Testament. By the use of music, danc- 
ing, and other exciting means, a highly contagious ecstasy 
was developed, in which the participants prophesied. The 
influence of the nomadic, prophesying troops which tra- 
versed the country was felt by those who came in contact 
with them. Such was the experience of Saul as given us in 
I Samuel 10:5 and 6, and of Saul and his messengers in 
I Samuel 19:23 7. While this ecstatic state was gradually 
eliminated, as late as the days of Elisha music was needed 
to assist the prophet. II Kings 9:11 and Jeremiah 29: 26, 
show us the general idea of the connection between prophecy 
and sacred madness or ecstasy. 

Among the later prophets a quiet form of inspiration pre- 
dominated. They received the message of Jehovah as ordi- 
nary men (see Amos 3:7 and 8); in fact, not only prophets 
but poets, statesmen, warriors, and artisans all served Yah- 
weh, and were prepared for this service and incited to this 
mission by the inspiration of His spirit.’ Kaplan divides the 
prophetic age into three periods. In the first the external 
means were used, in which abnormal and highly excited 
states were considered a manifestation of the indwelling of 
the divine spirit. In the second period the prophets had 
advanced intellectually and morally, partaking in this tran- 
sitory stage of the characteristics of both the first and 
third stages. With Amos and after, prophecy reached its 
highest point, and with a characteristic uniqueness of ge- 
nius presented Jehovah as the moral ruler of the whole 
world. 

The prophets themselves did a great service in the religious 
development of Israel, and most remarkable were the results 
to which they contributed. The contribution was the test of 

1 J. H. Kaplan, “Psychology of Prophecy,” American Journal of 
Religious Psychology and Education, Il, p. 171 }. 


INSPIRATION 345 


prophetism. “The possession of a single true thought about 
Jehovah, not derived from current religious teaching, but 
springing up in the soul as a word from Jehovah, is enough 
to constitute a prophet.’”?* While every prophet considered 
himself the mouthpiece of Yahweh, and spoke as with 
authority from Him, endeavoring to sink his own personality 
out of sight, yet every one had his personal peculiarities, and 
these were used and emphasized rather than suppressed. 

The drawing of lots, the experiencing of dreams, the seeing 
of visions, and hearing of auditions, were utilized; as a rule, 
however, the great prophets did not depend much on these, 
but they found that the message came through the more 
ordinary processes of the mind. The message which the 
prophet received in the more ordinary way might be best or 
only expressed through parables and symbols, but this is not 
to be confused with the method of reception. As has been 
said, the later and greater prophets received their messages 
In ways more in harmony with everyday experience rather 
than through ecstasy and vision, yet these could hardly be 
called normal. 

There is every indication that the message is the result of 
subconscious processes. There is something sharp and 
sudden about its appearance, as though it had burst out as 
a new discovery, rather than as a result of conscious reason- 
ing: as though it were provided by some external agency: 
as though it were ‘“‘breathed into” the prophet that he might 
breathe it out to the people. Of course, the prophet must 
have spiritual sympathy and appreciation of the worth of 
things which the people in general do not recognize, but it 
does not seem, at least to him, that any known mental proc- 
esses could account for his experience in receiving the mes- 
sage. Kaplan, in defining revelation, says, ‘Revelation, as 
I conceive it, therefore, is a sudden mysterious awareness of 

1R. Smith, Prophets of Israel, p. 182. 


3.46 INSPIRATION 


an inflow of thought, an inundation of spirit, an awakening 
of mind, seemingly from unaccountable [subconscious] 
sources, and therefore believed to be from not natural chan- 
nels through supernatural agency.” 

It was this individual experience which probably accounts 
in part for the message of individualism which was the pe- 
culiar note of the later prophecies. Because God spoke di- 
rectly to the individual in a personal way, it carried with it the 
implication of a personal care for the prophet, and hence for 
all individuals. In some of the later prophets, Mohammed, 
Joseph Smith, and Savonarola, the subconscious character- 
istics are equally prominent.’ Not only among the Hebrew 
prophets, or the New Testament writers, or those who have 
styled themselves prophets since that time, do we find in- 
spiration, but wherever religious truth, no matter how crude, 
is declared, there we must look for it. 

‘When I say that all religions depend for their origin and 
continuation directly upon inspiration, I state an historic 
fact. It may be known under other names, of credit or dis- 
credit, as mysticism, ecstasy, rhapsody, demoniac possession, 
the divine afflatus, the gnosis, or in its latest christening, 
‘cosmic consciousness.’ All are but expressions of a belief 
that knowledge arises, words are uttered or actions per- 
formed not through conscious ideation or reflective purpose, 
but through the promptings of a power above or beyond the 
individual mind.” ? 

The question of the true method of inspiration must come 
to us, and from psychology an answer may be expected. 
We then ask, Are men used simply as the amanuenses of 
God, or are they inspired as men and permitted to deliver 
their message in their own way? If we are to take the testi- 


‘J. B. Pratt, The Psychology of Religious Belief, pp. 137-146; W. 
James, The Varieties of Religious Experience, pp. 479-482. 
*D. G. Brinton, Religions of Primitive Peoples, p. 50. 


INSPIRATION 347 


mony of certain persons and decide by this alone, we must 
conclude that the former alternative is the correct position. 
For example, Milton claimed in all seriousness to be the 
mouthpiece of “that Eternal Spirit who can enrich with all 
utterance and all wisdom;”’ in many other places he speaks 
of the light that breaks in upon the soul when it becomes 
transparent to such inflowing of the divine. 

“We will listen to Blake’s own account of the way in which 
he was inspired to write his symbolic poems ‘Jerusalem’ 
and ‘Milton.’ ... 

“Black was taken down from London into the country to 
Felpham by a patron, Hayley, the friend of Cowper. There 
he lived for three years by the seashore, and ‘enjoyed for a 
time a new and ampler illumination.’ 

‘““*Felpham,’ he says, ‘is more spiritual. Heaven opens 
here on all sides her golden gates, the windows are not ob- 
structed by vapors; voices of the celestial inhabitants are 
more distinctly heard, and their forms more distinctly seen, 
and my cottage is also a shadow of their houses.’ As he 
walked along the seashore he was haunted by the forms of 
Moses and the prophets, of Homer and Milton. They seemed 
to him to be ‘majestic shadows, gray but luminous, and su- 
perior to the common height of men.’ These and other vague 
personages seemed to communicate to him the matter of his 
great poem. ‘I may praise it,’ he says, ‘since I dare not pre- 
tend to be any other than the secretary; the authors are in 
Eternity.’ ... 

“<T have written this poem from immediate dictation, 
twelve, or sometimes twenty or thirty lines at a time without 
premeditation, and even against my will.’” * 

Savonarola said, ‘‘ But for ill-will, these men might easily 
have understood that all these scenes were formed in my 
mind by angelic intervention.”’ Beecher gives us his personal 

1F, Granger, The Soul of a Christian, pp. 215-218. 


348 INSPIRATION 


experience thus: “There are times when it is not I that is 
talking; when I am caught up and carried away so that I 
know not whether I am in the body or out of the body; when 
I think things in the pulpit I could never think in the study; 
and when I have feelings that are so different from any that 
belong to the lower or normal condition that I can neither 
regulate them nor understand them. I see things and I hear 
sounds, and seem, if not in the seventh heaven, yet in a 
condition which leads me to apprehend what Paul said, 
that he heard things that it was not possible for a man to 
utter.” * 

The experiences of Mlle. Héléne Smith; so thoroughly in- 
vestigated by Prof. Flournoy,’ seem to her to be the direct 
result of supernormal agency, but in this Prof. Flournoy does 
not agree. He thinks it is the result of subconscious activity 
only. She considers it of religious significance, but as the 
“revelation”? has no moral or religious bearing, it does not 
come directly into our discussion at this point. 

Now we are face to face with the problem whether the testi- 
mony of witnesses, of which we have just had examples, 
concerning their passivity in producing, is to be taken as they 
give it, or whether we are to modify it by our knowledge of 
the working of the subconsciousness. We have it presented 
in this way. “There is a difficulty also in conceiving how the 
revelation should be given. Was it written on the heavens, 
or was there a voice from heaven, or was there an incarnation 
of the divine upon the earth? If, on the other hand, we con- 
ceive that the revelation was given subjectively, impressed 
upon the nature of the soul, an inner and not an outer reve- 
lation, it may have come primarily through the intellect or 
through the feeling. . . . Another theory of revelation is 
found in the hypothesis of an actual presentation of the object 


‘J. R. Howard, Beecher’s Patriotic Addresses, p. 140. 
*'T. Flournoy, From India to the Planet Mars. 


INSPIRATION 349 


which excites the religious feeling,” * e.g., the recognition of 
spirits through dreams. 

Are we to consider the intellectual inspiration as verbal, 
and the feeling inspiration as dynamic? Not necessarily so, 
and yet it might be divided in that way. We may well un- 
derstand how, when a speech, sermon, story, or a peculiar 
phrase comes into consciousness ready-made as frequently 
happens when the subconsciousness is particularly active, 
the person experiencing this would think of himself as pas- 
sive. Consciously he is passive; if he goes no further to seek 
an explanation he may well believe that he is but the penman 
or mouthpiece of the Deity. But knowing the working of 
the subconsciousness we cannot psychologically defend this 
contention. Plenary or verbal inspiration really stands for 
an arbitrary and unhistorical method of interpretation, and 
costs more than it is worth. To try to explain the discrepan- 
cies and errors in non-religious matters in the Bible, for exam- 
ple, entangles us in more difficulties than the theory of 
plenary inspiration can rescue us from. If no other than the 
practical side is considered, it is unprofitable; psychologically 
it is indefensible when we examine the case. We notice 
that.the Scriptures are not of equal value, but well suited 
to the times and particular events with which they are con- 
nected. 

There is a difference in degree and mode of inspiration; 
we cannot treat history, drama, poetry, and prophecy as ex- 
actly equivalent in the expression of religious truth. We may 
recognize the inspiration, providing we recognize the differ- 
ence in degree and in the variety of object. In considering 
race psychology, we must see that the inspiration of the 
prophets of the early peoples was in keeping with the capacity 
of the race to comprehend and apply, and in considering in- 
dividual psychology we can see that the inspiration was not 

1C. C. Everett, The Psychological Elements of Religious Faith, p. 45. 


350 INSPIRATION 


above the capacity and peculiarities of the individual prophet. 
In fact, the superiority of the Bible over all other religious 
scriptures consists principally in just this combination of con- 
tinuity, progressiveness, and adaptability to change of social 
conditions and to individual growth, with prophetic intuition 
which is attributed to the Spirit of God. 

The prophet, the inspired man, is to give us new truth. 
It has been a mistake to attribute to the prophet simply the 
duty of foretelling the future. It is true that the spiritual 
insight of some has been of such a character that they have 
been enabled to tell some things which to them seemed in- 
evitable, but which were hidden from the sin-blinded eyes of 
others, but these were not their chief nor most valued con- 
tribution to religion. In fact, this is where some religious 
geniuses, and especially religious fanatics, have failed. It 
was safe enough for them to perform miracles—among their 
followers; but they committed fatal blunders when they en- 
deavored to foretell the future. It was here that St. Bernard 
was shipwrecked, and on the same rock his imitators in 
every age have split. The infatuations of the present 
day are meeting a like fate. On the other hand, Savona- 
rola was able to forecast the future of Italy in a marvellous 
manner. 

We have already noted that the theory of plenary inspira- 
tion is indefensible from a psychological standpoint, and 
whether it has ever been of value theologically we must allow 
the theologians to decide. In our examination of God’s 
dealings with men we do not find Him using them as type- 
writers and phonographs, but their peculiarities are always 
respected and they are used as men. “From what has been 
said it will easily be seen that divine inspiration can never 
mean that the human ceases at any point to operate and be- 
comes passive in the power of some non-ego, but rather that 
the human rises with all the splendor and pristine glory of its 


INSPIRATION 351 


native forces to the highest pinnacle of its own power.” * He 
does inspire men subconsciously, I believe, and hence some 
form—not the strictest form—of the dynamic theory would 
best fit the psychological facts. He works upon the subcon- 
sciousness in a dynamic way, furnishing increased energy 
and activity so that religious truth is produced. Inspired 
men rather than inspired words would be the psychological 
distinction. 

In harmony with this idea, a recent writer puts forth the 
thesis that inspiration is suggestive rather than dictatorial. 
‘Nothing can be done, and done successfully, unless we can 
get people to perceive that the essential character of revela- 
tion is the imparting of truth by way of suggestion. When, 
and only when they perceive this, will they begin to perceive 
that it is essential that they should use their own minds in 
receiving truth; then only will they begin to compare dif- 
ferent utterances, and the bearings of each, and the logical 
connections between them; and then only may we expect 
them, finally, to arrive at that to secure which is one of the 
reasons why the revelation is made suggestive, namely, 
a rational conclusion.” ‘‘A suggestion, like a puzzle, not 
only gives every one who hears it an independent right to in- 
terpret it in his own way, but is more likely to be solved in the 
right way in the degree in which every one who hears it has 
been allowed to contribute his share toward its solution.” ? 

Ordinarily, the dynamic theory would posit that inspiration 
originates in suggestion, and develops from this suggestion 
according to the idiosyncrasies of the “earthen vessel,’’ but 
the result was usually considered, at least for the time in 
which it was spoken, dictatorial. ‘That the result is sug- 
gestive has much evidence in its favor when we examine the 


. 1J. H. Kaplan, ‘Psychology of Prophecy,” American Journal of 
Religious Psychology and Education, Il, p. 201. 
2G. L. Raymond, The Psychology of Inspiration, pp. 326 and 328. 


352 INSPIRATION 


words of Jesus. He used the parabolic method, which, while 
being forceful was, at the same time, suggestive, and allowed 
of individual interpretation to such an extent that His words 
to-day, in contrast to the dogmatic statements of His time, 
are as fresh to the reader as when they were uttered. The 
suggestiveness of ‘‘the bread of life,” ‘‘the mustard seed,” 
‘the lost sheep,” and “‘the ten virgins,” is cogent and potent, 
and no man has been in such a condition since Jesus walked 
in Galilee that these words would not appeal to him as living 
words fitted to his case. This view has much, from the 
example of Jesus, to commend it. 

In inspiration the subconscious factor is a large and im- 
portant one. While inspiration is not a commodity which 
has much current value, all of us have moments when we 
suddenly find in our consciousnesses some suggestion or idea 
which is totally different from the subject which has been 
engaging us, and yet which we immediately recognize as 
valuable and appropriate to some problem which concerns 
us. Or again we see the contemporaneous working of the 
consciousness and subconsciousness when some habitual 
action is performed, or even some new and perhaps skillful 
work is done, while we are deeply engaged in thought or 
conversation. It seems to us that some external agency is at 
work, using our lives to accomplish its tasks. At other times 
when the mind has apparently freed itself from the bonds of 
the ordinary means of mental functioning, difficult problems 
and intricate situations are treated with a facility which is 
surprising to us, and when we relapse into our accustomed 
condition, it seems as though we had fallen from a height, 
as though the higher individual which controlled us for a 
while had suddenly departed. The former are the moments 
which we call inspired. 

Nor can this state of mind be confined to the religious 
department of life; it is that which distinguishes all forms of 


INSPIRATION 353 


genius, but is seen most prominently in esthetic and religious 
experiences. Shakespeare perceives truths which are com- 
monly hidden from conscious minds, Phidias fashions marble, 
Raphael paints Madonnas, Beethoven composes sympho- 
nies, Isaiah proclaims religio-political principles. Conscious 
phenomena do not explain these results completely—genius 
can be followed by consciousness but not explained. 

A large part of the most valuable art work, it may be said, 
has been the result of intuitions and suggestions which seem 
to come from below the threshold of the conscious life, 
rather than from planning and reflection. Many artists 
have been apparently spectators and have consciously been 
surprised at the result of their labors; they have declared 
that the work has been done for them rather than by them; 
the credit has been given to some being working through 
them. In some cases, so great has been the control of the 
subsconsciousness that, after the accomplishment of some 
superhuman task, the consciousness has been able to recall 
the circumstances almost as in paramnesia, as though it had 
been done at another time, under quite similar circumstances, 
but a haze so conceals it that it might well have been ac- 
complished by another person. Thus the person thinks of 
himself as the tool of another, as the “‘mouthpiece,”’ ‘‘scribe,”’ 
or ‘‘pen”’ of some superior being. This is really possession 
or obsession, and is paralleled by the experiences of our 
dream life. What we are apt to think of in the extreme as 
abnormal, is really a familiar experience in its less emphatic 
forms, and is experienced more or less by all persons. A 
graduated scale from the most normal experience to that of 
“double consciousness” may easily be traced by presenting 
different cases.’ 

If the subconsciousness is thus really the prominent factor 


1See my “‘The Case of John Kinsel,” Part II, Psychological Review, 
November, 1903, for a fuller discussion on this point. 


354 INSPIRATION 


in inspiration which it appears, it may well be seen why 
religious genius might be connected with the neurotic tem- 
perament and thus with abnormal mentality. In early days 
and among primitive people religion exalted woman, among 
other ways, by recognizing her superior prophetic suscepti- 
bility. Such abnormal experiences as hypnosis, trance, 
ecstasy, epilepsy, etc., were considered by these people to be 
the prerogatives of those peculiarly fit for divine influences. 
We have recognized the pathological characteristics of these 
states and consequently have denied the persons who have 
been prone to such experiences any special religious signifi- 
cance. Have we emptied out too much? This abnormal 
quality shows itself in increased subconscious activity, or, 
shall I say, in the lowering of the threshold of consciousness, 
so that what, in other persons, is purely subconscious comes 
to be at least partially conscious in the genius. 

The great artist, poet, or saint is separated from his fel- 
lows, and a portion of his greatness depends on the fact that 
he is not like the mass of mankind. There may be a differ- 
ence of opinion as to whether he is inspired or mad, but that 
he is different all agree. All notable leaders and enthusiasts, 
being swayed by impulses largely below the threshold of 
consciousness, bring to bear on human affairs a force more 
concentrated and at higher tension than can be generated by 
deliberate reason. They may work and act as though im- 
pelled by an insistent idea, but this idea is permeated with 
reason so that it appeals to others, and thus the sect grows, or 
the religion spreads.’ 

Professor Ladd raises a pertinent protest. ‘‘’The presence of 
the influence from factors that only rarely or never rise above 


For a view of the connection of the subconsciousness and inspiration, 
see G. T. Ladd, Philosophy of Mind, pp. 171-176; W. James, The 
Varieties of Religious Experience, p. 483 f.; F. W. H. Myers, Human 
Personality, etc., 1, p. 56 7.; L. Waldstein, The Subconscious Selj, 


P2207) 


INSPIRATION 355 


the threshold of consciousness, and the important relation 
which these factors sustain to the characteristic phases and 
stages of conscious experience of religion, may be said to be a 
universal and inseparable factor in religious belief. It under- 
lies the religious doctrines of revelation and inspiration. 
That some of these phenomena not only defy analysis but 
belong to the abnormal and even to the unpsychological (or 
a-psychological) need not be disputed. But when the sole, 
or even the chiefly important sources of the conscious life of 
religion are assigned to the obscure and misty regions of the 
‘sub-liminal Self,’ and the inevitably added impression is 
made that religion itself it something psychologically abnor- 
mal or wholly mysterious, the errors involved cost more 
heavily than can be paid for by the truth gained.” ? 

Even in inspiration the product is not wholly that of the 
subconsciousness, but the conscious factors contribute their 
part. If, however, we hold to our theory of God’s working 
directly on man through the subconsciousness, the inspira- 
tion which is received through the consciousness is indirect. 
This must be at best a more or less arbitrary distinction, for 
the subconscious products must receive the approval of con- 
sciousness in order to be at all effective. We must further 
recognize that in saying that inspiration comes to us through 
or by means of the subconsciousness, we do not mean that 
God is eliminated from it; far from it. According to our 
theory, it means that God may be directly responsible for it. 
We must, though, guard against the conclusion that, because 
God works through the subconsciousness, all the products 
of the subconsciousness are the direct messages of God. This 
would be as unfortunate as it is erroneous. We must try the 
spirits—the test must be a practical one. 

The further question comes to us: Is there any difference 
between the religious genius and other kinds—artists, in- 

1G. T. Ladd, Philosophy of Religion, I, p. 266. 


356 INSPIRATION 


ventors, or generals? The answer must be ‘‘ Yes and No.” 
There is a difference according to the person inspired and 
the subject treated. God’s voice to man and through man 
has been expressed in a variety of ways. Personality God 
always respects. In viewing the products of inspiration in 
different persons we must recognize the influence of the tem- 
perament, mood, and capacity of the person at the time of 
the utterance, and no great revelation has ever come to us 
through an inferior person. We note the difference in in- 
spiration between different persons, and the difference in the 
same person at different times. Perhaps, though, we have 
not touched the vital point in the question. Let us suppose the 
same person was inspired as a prophet, a poet, and a general, 
what difference is there in the inspiration? Psychologically 
the difference would be in the difference of mental activities 
which would be necessary for the apprehension of new truth 
in the different spheres. The inspiration of the poet must 
differ much from that of the general, for the work is vastly 
different; so must that of the prophet from that of the artist. 
We cannot posit a wider distinction or relegate religious in- 
spiration to a separate realm. 

In the days gone by, when the mind was divided into 
faculties, religious inspiration was assigned to the religious 
faculty; but to-day when we know that the same mental fac- 
tors are used in religion as in the general affairs of life, ex- 
cept that they are turned in a different direction, inspiration 
must be thought of as a general experience, and the difference 
predicated according to the subject treated. Further, to-day 
we are recognizing that God is interested in art, inventions, 
and commerce, as well as in religion in the narrower sense of 
the word, and that as His kingdom is coming through all 
these means, inspiration may well come from Him for the 
declaration of new truth in these fields. The idea of inspira- 
tion must be extended to include these other things or aban- 


INSPIRATION 357 


doned altogether. But the measure of religious inspiration is 
not only the consciousness of the person inspired, but there 
must be the proof of a higher providence at work. This 
proof comes in the production by the inspired one of new 
truth of a high moral and religious value. 


CHAPTER XXV 
WILL 


““My will is something sorted with his wish: 
Muse not that I thus suddenly proceed; 
For what I will, I will, and there an end.” 
SHAKESPEARE. 


THINKING is most likely to move in circles. This is true 
not only with the individual but with the race. That every 
gyration is on a more elevated plane is probably the case, so 
that the figure would really be a spiral rather than a circular 
movement. In psychological theory different mental factors 
are given the supremacy by different persons or at different 
times. At one time the intellect, at another time the feeling, 
and at another time the will is put into the ascendency. 

We are returning now to Aristotle, for the will is primal in 
modern psychology. All psychic experience must have the 
basic factor in will, and although it may be said that affective 
and intellectual qualities are not lacking in conative factors, 
this is not true to the same extent. The purpose and direc- 
tion of thinking are what make it valuable; it is because we 
will that we think. The relationship between desire and 
liking shows the connection between will and feeling. Will, 
rather than an element in consciousness, seems to be the 
process by which the self realizes itself and its mission through 
activity. Although we cannot isolate any one function and 
say that it is the principal factor, for all psychic elements have 
their mission and worth, yet we can distinguish that which 
seems to us basal. 

358 


WILL 359 


Now, what is true of psychology in general, is, of course, 
true of religious psychology. Many of the recent movements 
and developments in religion have laid emphasis on the will, 
and movements of this kind are characteristic of the age. 
The recent movement known as Pragmatism, as well as by 
other names, assumes the primacy of the will, and is devel- 
oped from this basis. It is noticeable that our heresy trials 
of the past have been conducted with the assumption of the 
primacy of the intellect. A man’s creed, or lack of creed, 
was the subject of investigation and discussion. The creeds 
of most denominations are dead to-day. This is an inevitable 
consequence of definite and exact statement; the creed is 
thus stationary while the race develops. Few creeds written 
years ago can now be accepted with ‘‘mental reservations,” 
and those written to-day can only be for to-day and not for 
a century hence. Now, if the emphasis be shifted to the will 
in religion, heresy trials must be concerned with this factor 
rather than with the intellect. The heresy of creed has 
really never been a serious matter notwithstanding the em- 
phasis laid upon it by the church, but the heresy of conduct 
always has been. If this new emphasis causes men to recog- 
nize this it will take them back to Christ more assuredly 
than any recent movement. He laid emphasis on conduct, 
and neither had nor left any formulated creed. ‘By their 
fruits ye shall know them” emphasizes the will, and this is 
the kernel of Christ’s doctrine concerning heresy. 

The only thing, therefore, that He recognized as positively 
evil seems to have been a perverted will, just as the only 
thing that He considered positively good seems to have been 
the good will. Heresy has never been centered around the 
feelings, because these are rather intangible, but the religious 
aristocracy of the past has consisted largely of those of emo- 
tional temperament. Those who could not feel well have 
been pitied rather than blamed, and have been considered un- 


360 WILL 


spiritual and consequently of a lower order even if not classed 
as heterodox. To-day, and probably increasingly more so 
in the future, the doers must be considered the aristocracy of 
Christianity and the feelers must be both pitied and blamed, 
if doing is not also a part of their religion. Men now are 
agreeing more with Pope when he said, 


“For modes of faith let graceless zealots fight, 
He can’t be wrong whose life is in the right.” 


The following quotation seems to state the relation of the 
psychic factors in true proportion. ‘‘That religion psycho- 
logically considered, like all other human conscious devel- 
opments, has in some sort its seat in the voluntary powers; 
that from the ethical point of view, it necessarily shows itself 
in the form of control over conduct; and that the objective 
manifestations of religion in its cult and institutions cannot 
properly be disregarded in forming our conception of the 
nature of religion;—all these, and other correlated evidences 
to the prominence of will in the religious life and development 
of man must be freely acknowledged and fairly estimated. 
. . . But unintelligent and unemotional willing cannot form 
the essential content of anything that has worth.” ? 

Owing, not a little, to the influence of the modern revival 
and the methods which have been associated with it, will 
has had little part in the form of conversion espoused by the 
revivalist. The emphasis has been laid upon emotional 
states rather than upon conation, and the legitimate use of 
the will has been largely neglected. Self-surrender and a 
total disuse of the will have ever been the keynote of the 
revival; everything must be forfeited—intellect, will, pos- 
sessions, ambitions, pleasures—everything. ‘The opposition 
of man’s will to the Almighty’s was presented with the por- 
trayal of fearful doom. Even the presence of man’s will in 

*G. T. Ladd, Philosophy of Religion, I, p. 116 f. 


WILL 361 


religion was to be visited with awful consequences. Most 
revivalists are not psychologists, but were they, they could 
not more skilfully contrive to get their audiences in a passive 
condition where they are peculiarly susceptible and ready to 
accept any suggestion which the revivalist may then present. 

Is there, then, no element of self-surrender in conversion? 
Does not Jesus speak of giving up parents and possessions 
for the sake of the Kingdom of Heaven? Was not His life 
one of self-surrender and self-sacrifice? To all these ques- 
tions the affirmative answer is the only true one, but there is 
a vast difference between the non-voluntary, passive self- 
surrender of the revivalist, and the deliberative, voluntary 
self-surrender which Jesus proposed and which the New 
Testament emphasizes. In the latter case it was the func- 
tioning of the will which was required, and never the lack 
of it.’ 

One reason for our misinterpretation is that we have 
translated the Greek words and given to the translation an 
emotional meaning. For example, meravola is translated 
“repentance” which is commonly defined ‘‘feeling sorry for 
your sins.” As a matter of fact, the Greek word does not 
carry with it the feeling element at all. It conveys the im- 
pression of the activity of intellect and will. It might be 
defined as “‘a deliberative and thoughtful change of mind.” 
It is just the opposite of impulsive, emotional action. The 
confusion has probably arisen from the fact that two Greek 
words have been translated by the same English word. The 
other Greek word, petauéAopar, does signify regret and sor- 
row, and is a purely emotional word. This is not the word used 
by Jesus in His effort to persuade men to change their mode 
of life, but it is used to describe Judas’ feelings when he re- 
turned the thirty pieces of silver to the donors. One word 
encourages to hopeful action, the other condemns to hope- 

1See my Psychology of Alcoholism, pp. 305-308. 


362 WILL 


less regret. James gives a good illustration of the difference 
between the two words in the following psychological analysis. 

“The difference between willing and merely wishing, be- 
tween having ideals that are creative and ideals that are but 
pinings and regrets, thus depends solely either on the amount 
of steam-pressure chronically driving the character in the 
ideal direction, or in the amount of ideal excitement tran- 
siently acquired. Given a certain amount of love, indigna- 
tion, generosity, magnanimity, admiration, loyalty, or en- 
thusiasm of self-surrender, the result is always the same. 
That whole raft of cowardly obstructions, which in tame 
persons and dull moods are sovereign impediments to action, 
sinks away at once.” * 

Similarly, é7ructpody, conversion, signifies a definite act; 
it is a volitional word. ‘‘It is man’s first act under the leading 
of divine grace in the process of salvation, the initial step in 
the transition from evil to good.” ” Repentance and Con- 
version are closely connected and both are volitional acts; 
the first is the act of turning away from evil and the second 
the act of turning toward good. Each one implies the other, 
and either might be used to describe the total process.° 
With the meaning of these words before us we can easily see 
that will is not only admissible in conversion but absolutely 
essential. It is the lack of deliberate will which causes so 
many retrogressions among revival converts. A _ similar 
analysis of the Greek word translated “love” in the New 
Testament will show that it is primarily a state of will rather 
than of feeling, a certain attitude of mind which can be volun- 
tarily assumed by all persons regardless of temperament. 

Perhaps another reason why the emotional elements in 


1W. James, The Varieties of Religious Experience, p. 266. 

?J.S. Banks, Art. “Conversion,” Hastings’ Bible Dictionary, I, p. 478. 

°F. M. Davenport, Primitive Traits in Religious Revivals, p. 295; 
G. A. Coe, The Religion of a Mature Mind, pp. 195-200 


WILL 363 


conversion are emphasized at the expense of the will is that 
the emotional factors in Jesus’ life have been unduly en- 
larged upon, and His passive characteristics exaggerated. 
As we have already pointed out in the chapter on sex, Jesus’ 
will rather than His emotions predominated. He practised 
what He preached. The great need of volitional hymns, 
hymns of activity, and the abundant supply of emotional 
hymns, have probably had an influence in the same direction. 
In both these matters we have followed the church inter- 
preters rather than the Gospel. Religion, true religion, must 
affect the whole man, and any process under the name of 
religion which leaves.out the will can hardly be called 
Christian. 

Some cases seem to appear when the will is almost shat- 
tered, and conversion seems to stimulate and renew it; this 
is true, and yet in even the cases where the effort of will 
seems least possible, some effort, however small, must be 
made in order that the other factors of mind may be directed 
in the proper channels. An appeal to the moral will is never 
hopeless, especially in men. Starbuck defines the function of 
the will in conversion to be “‘to give point and direction to the 
unconscious processes of growth which, in turn, work out and 
give back to clear consciousness the revelation striven after.” * 
This is probably true, but does not express all the work of the 
will. Conscious action must also be directed, and however 
prominent the subconsciousness is in conversion there is 
always a conscious factor; or else it is not conversion accord- 
ing to the New Testament definition. 

Not only revivalists but mystics as well have laid great 
emphasis on the subjection and subduing of the will, and for 
not dissimilar reasons. When the will is subdued the sub- 
ject is in a condition of suggestibility. There is no direction 
of conscious thought, and consequently the subconsciousness 

1E. D. Starbuck, The Psychology of Religion, p. 112. 


364 WILL 


is allowed control. It is at such times that visions and other 
ecstatic experiences are most likely to appear. Not all mys- 
tics, however, have neglected the will. Eckhart made much 
of it. He said, “If your will is right you cannot go wrong”; 
“There is nothing evil but the evil will [intention], of which 
sin is the appearance.”” Ruysbroek said, ‘‘ Ye are holy as ye 
truly will to be holy.”” From the very nature of the case it is 
evident, though, that the will cannot be exalted among most 
mystics. To mysticism, in general, the chief value of the will 
is in the reaction which it has upon the emotions. Nor need 
we minimize this action of the voluntary powers. The reac- 
tion upon both the intellect and emotions in the case of the 
invigorated will of the new convert is most noticeable. The 
other factors are of little religious value without the will—in 
fact, they are so closely bound together that one cannot be 
stimulated without affecting the others, but in different types 
of character one of the factors predominates. 

We know nothing of the intellect or of the emotions without 
the use of the will: these other activities show themselves 
only in acts, and unless the aspirations and recognized duties 
of the soul toward God are translated into their different 
effects, they tend to die away into a mechanical and barren 
turn of mind. Mere self examination without the accom- 
panying effort to right the wrongs discovered is like discov- 
ering a disease without trying to effect a cure, and becomes 
either useless or morbid. It is the will which can furnish the 
only fitting culmination to all other mental activity, it is the 
end toward which all other factors tend. And in religion, 
especially, the will is not something that finds expression in 
an isolated act, but it reveals itself in the attitude of mind 
toward the whole universe of ends. 

It is further to be recognized that religion furnishes the 
best and safest outlet for the excesses of activity of either the 
intellect or the emotions; if these excesses are objectionable 


WILL 365 


in religion, as, of course, they are, we should find them far 
more objectionable and abnormal in other departments of 
life. The mystic shows usually strong emotions, but a weak 
intellect; in what more harmless or at the same time useful 
way could he express these characteristics? The fanatic, on 
the other hand, exhibits a strong will with a weak or narrow 
intellect, and as dangerous as this occasionally is in religious 
life, it most frequently passes off in harmless activities.’ 

The effect of the will on the intellect is nowhere more 
plainly seen than in its relation to beliefs, as strange as that 
may seem. ‘The presented facts or the logical conclusions 
do not have the power of “‘the will to believe.” The religious 
beliefs of a person demonstrate this more readily than any 
other. The wish is father to the thought, and most persons 
accept the religious beliefs which they wish to. The beliefs 
follow the ideals or lack of ideals; for example, a person may 
recognize the fear and despair which would follow disbelief, 
accept certain comfortable doctrines for his peace of mind, 
and does not, will not, investigate. His search is not for 
truth, but he accepts only the fragments—perhaps contra- 
dictory fragments—which he wills to accept. 

On the other hand, the searcher for truth is equally de- 
pendent upon will. He cannot search, he is unable to attend, 
he cannot form judgments according to ends or ideals without 
definite acts of will. If we take will as the basal fact of life, 
and activity as its culmination, we should more correctly say 
that the intellect and the feelings are at all times simply the 
aids of will. They give to the self the facts upon which it 
works, and help to establish values so that the self may act 
in the most profitable way. 

Other factors have their appropriate work, but all sub- 
serving the same ends of purposeful activity. However ex- 
alted a thought may be, and however lofty the emotions, we 
cannot call them religion nor can we think of them as a re- 


366 WILL 


ligious unit capable of being developed religiously unless 
there is connected with them appropriate activity. A. Sabatier 
says, “The essence of religion is a commerce, a conscious 
and willed relation into which the soul in distress enters with 
a mysterious power on which it feels that it depends.” Ladd 
says, ‘Religion, subjectively considered, covers all the rela- 
tions in which the will of man must be, or properly may be, 
conceived of as standing to the Divine Will.’’ Will is the 
basis; other things are essential to the development of will 
in order that religion may be real and valuable. 

It may be fitting at this time to glance at the different fac- 
tors of will to determine more accurately the exact place 
which they have in the religious life. Will is distinguished 
from lower conative activity by a conscious end to be attained. 
It is this matter of ends or ideals which is set before the self 
that determines the standard of values so important to life as 
a whole, and particularly religious and moral life. The feel- 
ings have not a little influence on these ideals, but the will, 
far more than the feelings, regulates the question of values, 
for the will is used to control and change the feelings, and in 
choosing what shall have value. 

Deliberation is usually considered an intellectual attain- 
ment, but it requires a definite act of will to deliberate. It is 
here that we see the work of voluntary attention, that most 
valuable and ubiquitous mental factor. No mental work of 
any value or importance can be produced without the aid of 
voluntary attention; it is the prime requisite for effective 
mentality. 

Closely connected with this is the matter of control. Con- 
trol is a necessity of deliberation. It may be defined as the 
balance between the ever-present impulses on the one hand 
and inhibition on the other. If the force of either of them is 
much increased, or the presence of either abated, there 
control is more or less lost. It is the will which overcomes 


WILL 367 


inequalities in these contrary forces, and maintains the bal- 
ance as necessary for control. 

Choice approaches the culmination of the work of will. 
Whether in the form of superior choice or of the minor choices 
of every day, we can all recognize the value of this element. 
What would, what could, religion be without it? It is here 
that decisions are made which are the root of all religious 
effort. We not only choose the main course of life, but with 
that in view make choices almost every minute. The relig- 
ious life is at heart a series of choices to be put into effect. 

But the supreme factor in will is effort. The whole process, 
however complete in the first parts, is a failure if it does not 
result in effort. We may say further that religion as a whole 
is a failure if there is no effort. This is one reason why we 
have affirmed that will is the basis of the religious life, and 
why we have spoken of the heresy of will rather than that of 
the intellect. However satisfactory the feelings may be to the 
individual expressing them, and however faultless a creed 
or argument may appear to its author and his friends, if 
these do not result in effort, in a superior form of conduct, 
and in an attempt to help others, it cannot be deemed relig- 
ious, or at least Christian. Long continued effort in any one 
direction is a test of mental force: and if this direction is in 
the line of religion or morals it is a supreme test of character. 
It is no accident that the New Testament lays such emphasis 
on endurance; success comes only through endurance in any 
field, and religious success is no exception to the rule. Sus- 
tained effort must be the aim of the Christian life. I have 
endeavored to present the value of these factors of will, not 
exhaustively, but merely suggestively, so that some idea may 
be had of the real place of will in the religious life. 

It is necessary for us to touch briefly the much mooted 
subject of ‘‘the freedom of the will,” but this from the psy- 
chological standpoint only. What theology and philosophy 


368 WILL 


have to say on the question does not interest us in our dis- 
cussion here, but psychology has something to say. Viewed 
from this point we may say that man is practically free, or, 
shall we say, morally free.’ The usual statement of the 
question is an unfortunate one, for as we have already im- 
plied, by will we mean a much wider scope than is ordinarily 
understood by this term, and by “freedom of the will” we 
mean the freedom of the self to will. Religion then asks the 
question, ‘‘What is the attitude of the human will to the 
Divine Will?” Has this question any meaning for religion 
unless man is morally free? Will, then, comprehends the 
entire active aspect of the mental life as it reaches its highest 
attainment in conscious deliberation and choice, and in an 
effort to act intelligently on this choice, in the furtherance of 
moral conduct. Activity is the keynote, and man shows his 
freedom in thinking, imagining, and feeling. ‘The highest 
expression of freedom, then, is the ability to respond to the 
Divine Will. 

“Tt is, however, in the adjusting of himself, by a more or 
less deliberative choice, to the Object of religious belief that 
man’s freedom makes the culminating exhibition of itself. . . . 
To choose whether, or not, to worship or to serve this Being 
is the highest exercise of human freedom in the domain of 
religion.” ‘Every individual is a more or less perfected 
Selfhood, according to the intensity and comprehensiveness 
attained by the development of the so-called faculties of self- 
consciousness, recognitive memory, reasoning, and the sus- 
ceptibilities to the higher forms of ethical, zesthetical, and 
religious feeling—all suffused with, and controlled by, the 
self-determined activity called a ‘free will.’” ? 

Of course we must recognize that moral freedom is not 


1G. T. Ladd, Philosophy of Religion, I, pp. 334-339, discusses this 
question. 
7G. T. Ladd, Philosophy of Religion, I, pp. 335 j. and 602. 


WILL 369 


ready made, and an accompaniment of birth. Both morality 
and freedom are matters of development, and differ in degree 
and kind according to the acquisition of the individual and 
the race. When we speak, then, of moral and religious 
freedom, it should always be remembered that we are not 
speaking of a constant quantity, but of something varying 
with every individual and even in the same individual at 
different times. These two things, then, psychology has to 
say on the subject of “freedom of the will’”’: man is morally 
free, the freedom showing itself most plainly in the response 
to moral appeals; and the amount and quality: of the free- 
dom varies with the individual. 


CHAPTER XXVI 
EMOTIONS 


“Hang those that talk of fear.””—SHAKESPEARE. 


THE place of the emotions in religion has been variously 
estimated. There is no doubt about their importance. As 
sources of religion they are probably primal, and for furnish- 
ing material for religion they take a prominent place. The 
intellect and the emotions furnish the material with which 
the will operates. Considering this, it is not strange that 
many have defined religion in terms of the emotions. Schleier- 
macher, one of the first writers on psychology of religion, 
took this position, and he has been followed, among others, 
by Herbart, Sabatier, Upton, and more recently Everett, 
James, and Starbuck. | 

As a general thing, there is a lessened regard for emotion- 
alism in religion to-day, probably due to a reaction, for in the 
past it has been unduly honored. A claim to sainthood, or 
even to religion of any kind, without an excess of emotional 
experience, would have been considered invalid, and as has © 
already been indicated, if our hymns are any index to past 
religion it was almost totally emotional. In the reaction, 
some have been inclined to reject emotional experiences alto- 
gether, judging the whole product by the excess, but the 
general disposition is to accord them the proper position in a 
symmetrical and well developed life. The problem to-day 
is to discover this position. One thing we can postulate, and 
that is that feeling alone is not sufficient to account for re- 
ligion either in its source or material. If this is true, it nat- 

37° 


EMOTIONS 371 


urally follows that no one emotion, as e.g., fear, is large 
enough for the task. | 

No emotions can stand as purely affective states. Take, 
for instance, that one of dependence, upon which Schleier- 
macher endeavors to found religion; it is impossible to 
separate this from rational implicates. The same is more or 
less true of all the emotions, and an emotional basis in which 
the intellect does not have an important part is scarcely con- 
ceivable from the standpoint of modern psychology, what- 
ever may have seemed consistent when men studied about 
the separate faculties of the soul. On the other hand, it is 
just as impossible to think of reason absolutely devoid of 
feeling, and we would as freely combat the thesis that reason 
alone will suffice in religion. For example, a purely intel- 
lectual cult is almost unthinkable, for in worship the emo- 
tions must be appealed to, appealed to primarily to prevent 
the degeneration into a formal exercise of little or no value 
to the individual. On the other hand, untrammeled emotions 
in worship produce camp-meeting phenomena, which are 
always to be deprecated in the interests of healthy religion. 
Self-control by the will is necessary in order to prevent hys- 
teria or formalism, both of which we must eschew. The tend- 
ency to-day may be rather in the direction of too complete 
suppression of the emotions, but this tendency will naturally 
be overcome. A further objection to the use of any single 
emotion, or to all the emotions for that matter, as a dis- 
tinguishing characteristic of the religious life, is that these 
emotions are common outside the realm of religion.’ It brings 
us back to our thesis that religion deals with the whole man, 
and the whole man deals with religion. 

The great divergence of opinion concerning the emotions 
and their place, not only in religion but in other psychic 


1 J. H. Leuba, “Religion as a Factor in the Struggle for Life,’ Amer- 
ican Journal of Religious Psychology and Education, Il, p. 314 }. 


372 EMOTIONS 


states, is due to the great difficulty in treating them satis- 
factorily and completely. They may only be studied through 
memory, and that when memory is not in its best form. In 
addition to this, they vary greatly with the individual and 
with the occasion. The relegating of the emotions in their 
primary effects to the reflex system entirely, and only to the 
higher mental factors in a secondary way, which the now 
popular and over-worked James-Lange theory does, has 
been an additional confusing element. Of course, no one 
doubts the reverberating influence of the bodily organs, but 
to make the part take the place of the whole has been a fallacy. 
It is easy to understand how Professor James could eliminate 
the intellect or any higher function from connection with the 
emotions, under the influence of this theory, as a primary 
source of religion; for under this theory the emotions, except 
in an indirect way, cannot have much commerce with the 
intellect. 

An injury which emotionalism has done religion through 
misunderstanding has been that it has been considered that 
any kind of excitement was distinctively religious in character 
if it was in any way associated with religious gatherings or 
worship. Christianity, or certain of its doctrines, has been 
condemned, when the real condemnation should have been 
of certain emotionalisms. ‘This is especially true of revivals. 
We have noticed not only the emotional type, but also the 
rational and controlled type in revivals. It is the former to 
which we refer here. In the latter type the emotions are not 
absent, but controlled. The stimulation is not followed by 
reflex action, but by reflection and then, perhaps, by action. 

In addition to these revival cases, we have a type which 
most often, if not always, appears in solitude and is quite 
characteristic of adolescence. It is a comparatively calm, 
yet intense state, which does not express itself in so boister- 
ous a manner as the revival type, and arises spontaneously. 


EMOTIONS 373 


While this is a distinct type, the two forms are sometimes 
found in the same individual, or more or less mixed, as in 
certain mystics. While the revival form of religion is liable 
to be transitory, the spontaneous, calm form is likely to be 
much more permanent. The revival type is too common to 
need any examples, but of the other type notice that most 
vivid and forceful description of the night of the soul by the 
Spanish mystic, St. John of the Cross. Emotionalism as 
“the vice of democracy”? has been distinctly recognized in 
past revivals, and this is a great gain. Its contagious char- 
acter is also well known. In the most extreme cases we 
have had religious intoxication, but because of this we must 
not make the mistake of eliminating the emotions entirely; 
instead, they should be rationally controlled. 

It is one of the seeming paradoxes of religion, yet none the 
less true, that religion is the cure for the excitement in which 
sometimes it takes its rise, by furnishing an outlet through 
appropriate activities. By crystallizing the feelings through 
activity they are deepened, strengthened, and at the same 
time appropriately placed. Feelings must get in touch with 
the practical or they inevitably fade away and their useful- 
ness is destroyed. James points out’ that unless we act upon 
our emotions we are the worse for them, and life fails in its 
realization. Here, of course, the emphasis is placed on the 
will. We must further realize that, without the association of 
emotionalism with high and comprehensive ideals, it amounts 
to no more than a puff of powder in the open air. The same 
powder might have been orderly arranged with rifle, bullet, 
and cartridge, and’ have been a great power. Excessive 
emotionalism not only is useless in itself, but it so destroys 
the equilibrium that the other mental factors are unable to 
perform their functions. 

Emotions are not uniform in their expression, and this is 

1W. James, Principles of Psychology, I, p. 125 }. 


374 EMOTIONS 


especially true in religion. It is impossible to maintain the 
powerful emotions of religion for a very long time, for either 
the strain will become too great and a temporary insanity 
will ensue, or else it will be followed by complementary emo- 
tions. From the greatest religious exaltation the saint fre- 
quently fell to the depths of depression, or else there would 
follow a more or less dull and inactive state which the tired 
nerves demanded in order to recuperate. ‘This weariness 
may be accompanied by irritability of temper, which has 
been characteristic of some devout persons, among whom 
was St. Teresa. The high tension of the emotional state 
produced by the devoutness of the saints during worship 
inevitably was followed by a reaction and concomitant irri- 
tability when relieved from worship and the association of 
those who surrounded them. 

As thought advances, emotionalism declines; reasoned 
action takes the place of impulsive action. The emotions of 
to-day are of a milder type; men are care-worn oftener than 
melancholy; jovial, more than joyous; sagacious and in- 
genuous, rather than meditative. This repression of the 
profounder emotions is to be regretted, but must be taken 
into account when we attempt to compare the religion of to- 
day with that of the past, or prognosticate concerning the 
future. So intertwined are our intellectual and emotional 
states that our conceptions of Divinity alter our feelings to- 
ward Him and, moreover, toward our fellow-men, and they in 
turn have an influence on our conceptions. Let us now con- 
sider some of the individual emotions in their relation to 
religion. 

Among those who have delved into the sources of religion, 
and both by examination of primitive religions and reasoning 
from general considerations have formed conclusions, fear 
seems to stand out prominently as a cause of religious reac- 
tions, but not, as some have tried to demonstrate, the only 


EMOTIONS 375 


cause. The cause must have been as complex as the nature, 
but on the other hand, the impulse to self-preservation must 
have both quickened and in turn been stimulated by fear.’ 
The history of the race is corroborated by that of the indi- 
vidual, for the first emotional reaction in the infant is that of 
fear. Of course the speculation and deductions concerning 
the origin of religion are intensely interesting and not without 
profit, but as religion was well developed before Christianity 
was introduced, it is only indirectly of interest to us in our 
present inquiry. 

Fear has played an extensive réle in Christianity, although 
its founder was in no sense actuated by this emotion. Per- 
fect trust and love seemed to eliminate fear. We must rec- 
ognize, however, that He did not represent His times, for 
phenomena, like demoniacal possession, show beyond doubt 
that the people were far from fearless in their religious be- 
liefs. So powerful were these emotions in the religious world 
that after His death Christianity was soon permeated with 
fear, and only later years have been able to eliminate it. 

In the Dark Ages, fear, stimulated by the cruelty with 
which the Roman Church endeavored to conquer and rule, 
seemed to be one of the chief factors in the general religious 
life. The element of fear was not eliminated after the Prot- 
estant Reformation. The opportunity for relief offered by 
purgatory was removed from the idea of punishment, and 
nothing but the inevitable and awful mouth of unquenchable 
hell yawned for the sinful. Were men given a chance this 
might not have aroused such fears, but the predestination of 
Calvinism might doom anyone to this fate notwithstanding 
his most strenuous efforts. So far as the element of fear 


1 See G. T. Ladd, Philosophy of Religion, I, pp. 284-287; J. H. Leuba, 
‘Fear, Awe, and the Sublime in Religion,” American Journal of Re- 
ligious Psychology and Education, II, pp. 3 f.; T. Ribot, The Psychology 
of the Emotions, p. 309, and many works dealing with the history and 
philosophy of religion. 


376 EMOTIONS 


was concerned, it was rather increased than diminished by 
Protestantism. 

The effect of fear during the revival period has already 
been noticed in our chapter on that subject. Up to the time 
of Finney, at least, through the Wesleyan, Edwardsian, and 
Kentucky revivals we may well say that it was the prime fac- 
tor of the preaching and of the reaction of the converts. The 
financial fear preceding the 1857 revival was also a potent 
factor. To the general fear of hell and certain local and 
occasional fears, must be added that instinctive fear which is 
always liable to manifest itself in a crowd. This slumbering 
mass of inherited instincts and feelings may be awakened 
and frequently is awakened by the skillful use of means 
which the revivalist usually employs, and for a time there is 
the reversion to the primitive type, so that a wave of fear 
sweeping away individual control, engulfs the whole audi- 
ence. Primitive feelings were accompanied by primitive 
reflexes, and hence there appeared the physical phenomena 
so characteristic of the early revivals. 

In Starbuck’s investigations, over a decade ago, of con- 
versions, many of which are now a quarter of a century old 
or older, only twenty per cent. could be assigned to self- 
regarding motives and forces, fourteen per cent. of which 
were fears of death and hell. Coe’s returns showed less than 
eighteen per cent. While this percentage is not large, I doubt 
if present-day conversions would give nearly so many of this 
type. In fact, in answer to a recent questionnaire of Professor 
Leuba’s, in only two instances did fear enter into the re- 
ligious life, except “‘incidentally and fitfully.” In both these 
cases fear was constitutional, rather than religiously inspired. 
Except among the most primitive, and probably among 
Roman Catholics, fear is no longer an influential factor in 
religion. 

It is true that this is a great advantage to religion and the 


EMOTIONS 377 


gain will be more and more recognized, but I am not sure 
that too much has not been thrown away. While arbitrary 
punishment is at variance with all that we know of God’s 
dealings with men either in nature or in religion, logical pun- 
ishment is not only consistent but certain. All sin must bring 
this and cannot be escaped; and while hell is not believed in 
very much to-day, the awful effects of sin in destroying the 
higher life and the real man furnish a punishment of 
which there is no doubt, and which is more serious in its 
results. 

Professor Leuba gives three causes for the decline of fear. 
It should be noticed that these causes are general in their 
application, and are not simply applicable to religion. 1. 
Among civilized people the occasions for fear have greatly 
decreased. The pressing dangers to which man in a primi- 
tive state was exposed have been removed, and the phenomena 
of nature, e. g., lightning, have been explained and partially 
mastered. 2. Education and training have ministered to the 
control of emotions. 3. The fear reaction is recognized as 
inadequate for the fulfilment of its task. The physical con- 
comitants of fear make man less fitted to combat the danger 
which inspired the emotion. Several modern cults have rec- 
ognized this, and especially the “New Thought” movement. 
Here fear is viewed as the greatest sin, largely because it 
unfits man for his higher duties. As a propzdeutic for thera- 
peutic measures, lack of fear is very beneficial. It is, there- 
fore, usually connected with modern mind and faith cure 
cults.1_ While the lack of belief in hell and God’s wrath have 
undoubtedly ministered to the decline of fear, this lack of 
belief is a result of the three causes already cited rather than 
an independent cause. Fear in religion is out of harmony 
with life in general—the highest life. 

Closely related to fear is awe, and developed from awe is 

1W. James, The Varieties of Religious Experience, pp. 98 f. 


378 EMOTIONS 


the feeling of the sublime.’ While all three of these emotions 
are inspired by the presence of the mysterious, the great, and 
the superior, in the fear reaction antagonism is manifested, 
and a feeling of shame eventually accompanies it; in the re- 
action which we know by the name of awe and the sublime, 
attraction and admiration are evinced, and a dignity and 
kinship with the great are felt. ‘Awe might be defined 
arrested fear in the presence of objects whose greatness is 
apprehended.” In awe the distinctive fear reaction is about 
to manifest itself, but is held in check by the judgment of 
lack of danger; in the sublime there is no fear activity 
awakened. 

So far as any emotions may be called disinterested, awe 
and the sublime must here be classed, and in this respect 
they add a valuable factor to religion; it must further be 
recognized that as such they are not religious emotions, but 
should rather be classed among the esthetic: they become 
religious when man perceives back of the object the superior 
and controlling force to which, recognizing a kinship in some 
way to his own nature, he responds. The response may 
either be through the indirect means of reflection, or directly 
in the sense or feeling of the divine presence. St. Francis is 
said to have been so overcome with this emotion that he was 
unable to express himself in prayer, but could only reiterate 
the name of the Deity. Many other examples might also be 
given. Artificially this may become almost if not quite a con- 
stant experience by the so-called “practice of the presence of 
Goda 

Any help which awe and the sublime may render to re- 
ligion is largely disregarded by Protestantism to-day. In 


1 J. H. Leuba, ‘Fear, Awe and the Sublime in Religion,” American 
Journal of Religious Psychology and Education, II, pp. 14-23; G. T. 
Ladd, Philosophy of Religion, I, pp. 58 f., 327-331. 

7W. James, The Varieties of Religious Experiences, pp. 58-72; 
G. A. Coe, The Religion of a Mature Mind, pp. 234-242. 


EMOTIONS 379 


former years the fearful, awful, and sublime were cultivated 
to some extent. God, before whom men could only stand 
with unshod feet, has given place to a familiar—too familiar 
—friend, who inspires no awe, or sublimity. The awfulness 
of the sinner’s fate and of the Christian’s danger have also 
passed away among most Protestant churches. The Roman 
Catholic Church, however, has retained as much of the awe 
inspiring as the times will permit, and endeavors to use the 
sublime as much as possible. Through the means of archi- 
tecture, music, pageantry, and mystery, these emotions are 
stirred, and as a result reverence and veneration are not so 
shockingly lacking as in some Protestant churches. Our 
consideration of the sublime leads us in two directions: 
either to the zsthetic emotions of which this is a part, or 
through admiration to sympathy, love, and the more tender 
emotions. We will take these up in order. 

Perhaps not in the same degree, but none the less surely, 
all of the esthetic emotions may be cultivated in the inter- 
ests of religion. Especially is this true when we consider the 
beautiful under the forms of the orderly and free, which in 
extreme cases excite the feeling of sublimity. When through 
reflection we look back of the orderly, we see the Supreme 
Being as the source of order, and when we reflect on free- 
dom, we find Him also to be the ground of that free control 
which is the root of all harmony and law. The other esthetic 
emotions may likewise be of service in religion: we may best 
recognize this by turning our attention to the relation of art 
to religion.’ 

Art and religion have much in common, especially when we 
consider their ideals and aspirations; but we must be careful 
not to identify them, for there is always a line of demarkation. 
It is in the sublime that religion and art most nearly ap- 
proach each other, and probably the feeling of dependence is 

1G. T. Ladd, The Philosophy of Religion, I, pp. 435-453. 


380 EMOTIONS 


the factor of the sublime where they most nearly coincide. 
This is especially true in what we may designate the moral 
sublime, as in the heroic in man, which caused primitive 
people to deify him. Professor Everett defines religion from 
the standpoint of feeling as follows: “Religion is a feeling 
towards a supernatural presence manifesting itself in truth, 
goodness, and beauty.”’ ‘‘ Why,” he says, “‘is it that beauty 
has such prominence in religion? Because religion is the 
feeling toward the supernatural, and beauty is a manifesta- 
tion of the supernatural in the world.” * Whatever we may 
think of the first part of this answer, the second is undoubt- 
edly true. 

In the feelings of mystery and appreciation, and in the en- 
thusiasm for the beautiful in deity, we find common sources 
of both art and religion, although differently developed; and 
in the symbolism in which both deal we find a further con- 
nection. It is in this very matter of symbolism that art is so 
helpful to religion. Each has been helpful to the other, if in 
no other way than by mutual aspiration, and each in turn 
has been the means of degrading the other, but chiefly through 
their wandering into by-paths. On the whole, however, we 
may say of the past, and surely as the ideal, that art beauti- 
fies and glorifies the concepts and worship of religion, and 
religion in turn inspires, purifies, and elevates art, and they 
are complementary in the higher life. This has been mani- 
fested in the history of the Christian church. 

Among some psychologists fear does not stand alone as the 
primary religious emotion, but is coupled with love in the 
larger sense, 7. e., ‘“tender emotion.” * ‘This sympathy or 
love is what attracts men to the Deity, while fear tends to 
repel them. When this attraction and love inspire a morbid 


*C. C. Everett, Psychological Elements of Religious Faith, pp. 202 
and 208. 
*T. Ribot, Psychology of the Emotions, pp. 263 and 309. 


EMOTIONS 381 


exaltation, we have different forms of abnormal phenomena, 
such as ecstasy, which are determined according to the mix- 
ture of other emotions. The mystics, who dwell so much on 
this one factor of love, are examples of the morbid effects. 
They have generally chosen the Gospel of John as their favor- 
ite scripture. Some would say that Mysticism is a practical 
application of the Gospel of John. ‘Love, as St. John 
teaches us, is the great hierophant of the Christian mysteries.”’ * 
Some mystics fail to come up to the standard of John, for 
while through love they found God in nature and in their own 
souls, they seldom found Him in the souls of others. Deeds 
of charity they performed, it is true, but real communion 
with others was foreign to them. 

Love was always, however, the pathway to God in Mys- 
ticism. William Law is quoted as follows: ‘‘ No creature can 
have any union or communion with the goodness of the 
Deity till its life is a spirit of love. This is the one only bond 
of union betwixt God and His creature.” <A favorite maxim 
with some of the mystics was that “love changes the lover 
into the beloved.” We cannot conceive of mysticism among 
Christians without a basis of love, yet some used it more 
than others, and the definitions of love would vary greatly 
among different schools of mystics. With some there was an 
undoubted sexual element in it, others had as an ideal recip- 
rocal love, while with some the only worthy kind was pure or 
disinterested love.’ 

The present development of Christianity through the in- 
fluence of love is, in some respects, unhealthful if not patho- 
logical. Itshows itself in lack of reverence to the Deity, who 
loves us so much as to be very companionable with us, and 
consequently the true spirit of worship has either been 
eradicated or has degenerated so as to be hardly recognizable. 


1W. R. Inge, Christian Mysticism, p. 316. 
7W. R. Inge, Christian Mysticism, pp. 234-242. 


382 EMOTIONS 


If this is a detriment which has followed the emphasis of love, 
it is more than overbalanced by the good which has resulted. 

Christian love is not a pure emotion, as many mystics and 
others have supposed, but contains other elements, especially 
of will. Hence the command to love our enemies is not 
meaningless nor incapable of fulfilment. Love is expressed 
by service, and finds its culmination in complete self-surren- 
der to God and self-sacrifice to man. Some of the saints 
have searched for the most disagreeable and difficult tasks, 
in order that they might demonstrate how completely all con- 
sideration of self had been destroyed. The tortures devised 
by all the genius of asceticism were never truly selfish, and 
however abnormal or foolish they may seem to us, we must 
recognize them as an imperfect yet purposeful way in which 
men tried to obtain satisfaction for the impulse to self-sur- 
render generated by love for the Divine in obedience to His 
will toward men as interpreted by them. Notwithstanding 
this pathological fruit found in Christianity, but less in 
Christianity than in other religions, it is Christianity, with 
its teachings of Divine fatherhood and of redeeming Divine 
love as shown in the life and death of Jesus, which has stimu- 
lated the love of God and of our fellowmen, and brought it 
into prominence as religious practice. Whether other religions 
have received similar teaching through the influence of 
Christianity or developed it independently, it has never 
reached the high plane of Christianity either in principle or in 
practice. 

There appears to be an organic affinity between love and 
joyousness. The two are concomitants at least. Love seems 
to inspire joy and joy love. In the ascetic life the climax of 
aspiration was the combination and perfection of both. In 
modern Christianity the acute stage of both seems to be at 
the time of conversion. If it is true that religion starts with 
fear it is equally true that it develops towards joy; joy, per- 


EMOTIONS 383 


haps, because of deliverance from fear. This seems to be a 
partial explanation of the conversion joy, coupled as it is 
with the sense of perfect trust, and consequent loss of worry. 
The joy and exaltation are probably largely responsible for 
the sense of newness so characteristic, we have found, of 
many conversion cases. The joy in conversion, especially 
in revival conversions, is partially due to suggestion. Con- 
trasted with the fear inspired by a part of the preaching, is 
the expectation of joy which is proclaimed as an immediate 
effect of deciding to live a life of righteousness. In addition 
to external influences the question of whether there shall be 
depression or joy depends not a little upon the individual 
temperament. The element of fear, of course, brings depres- 
sion, and the lack of decision when the matter is to be settled, 
as in revival experiences, is also a fruitful cause of depression, 
together with the dread which comes from the uncertainty of 
the future. In pathological cases this depression or sadness 
becomes religious melancholia, in which the emotional state 
accompanies the insistent belief that the individual is guilty, 
rejected, or damned. 

In some cases of sainthood we have a strange combination 
of these two apparently contradictory emotions. We may 
call it the joy of sadness as a comprehensive name. St. Pierre 
writes, “‘I know not to what physical laws philosophers will 
some day refer the feelings of melancholy. For myself, I find 
that they are the most voluptuous of all sensations.”’ Marie 
Bashkirtseff says, ‘‘In this depression and dreadful uninter- 
rupted suffering, I don’t condemn life. On the contrary, I like 
it and find it good. Can you believe it? I find everything 
good and pleasant, even my tears, my grief. I enjoy weeping, 
I enjoy my despair. I enjoy being exasperated and sad.’’ The 
biographer of Marguerite Marie says of her, “Her love of 
pain and suffering was insatiable. . . . She said that she 
could cheerfully live till the day of judgment, provided she 


384 EMOTIONS 


might always have matter for suffering for God; but that to 
live a single day without suffering would be intolerable.” 
Madame Guyon, in speaking of a severe storm which kept 
her eleven days at sea while sailing from Nice to Genoa, 
which I have already referred to, says, ‘‘As the irritated 
waves dashed round us I could not help experiencing a cer- 
tain degree of satisfaction of mind. . . . Perhaps I carried 
the point too far, in the pleasure which I took in thus seeing 
myself beaten and bandied by the swelling waters.” * 

This love of suffering may have been extended to others 
and have been a factor in the cause of the cruelties in which 
some of the saints indulged. However, jealousy of the De- 
ity’s honor, and the bursting out of pent-up emotions which 
had been denied their natural outlet, are probably greater 
elements in the cause. Through this cruel tendency, Chris- 
tianity in practice has been a continued tragedy instead of 
a love feast. The Roman Church, especially in the Middle 
Ages, used the argument of the sword, the fagot, and the 
gallows to make converts; and those who refused to be con- 
verted suffered the penalty. The Puritans hanged the witches, 
and both Roman Catholics and Protestants have turned 
against Jews and infidels with fury. 

One can hardly conceive of stronger evidence of a lack of 
love than is found in some of Jonathan Edwards’ sayings. 
Take that passage, for instance, in ‘The End of the Wicked 
contemplated by the Righteous: or, the Torments of the 
Wicked in Hell no occasion for Grief to the Saints in Heaven,” 
where he says, “‘ When they have this sight it will incite them to 
joyful praises. .. . The damned and their miseries, their 
sufferings and the wrath of God poured out upon them, will 
be an occasion of joy to them.” Or take the words of An- 
drew Wellwood when picturing the future: “I am overjoyed 


*W. James, The Varieties of Religious Experience, pp. 83, 287, and 
3I0. 


EMOTIONS 385 


in hearing the everlasting howlings of the haters of the Al- 
mighty. What a pleasant melody are they in mine ears! 
O, Eternal Hallelujahs to Jehovah and the Lamb! O, sweet! 
sweet! My heart is satisfied.” These men who gave expres- 
sion to these words were not barbarians, but Christians in 
high repute in the church. Many of the ascetics have taken 
too literally the words of Jesus about hating father, mother, 
and others, and have had peculiar pleasure in causing their 
loved ones the most bitter sorrow and woe. 

There is a related group consisting of humility, depend- 
ence, resignation, and other allied states which cannot be 
overlooked even if we are not able to devote much space to 
them. Considered as sources they are not far removed from 
fear, and probably those who would choose fear as the emo- 
tion on which religion depends for its origin have in mind 
very much the same emotion as those who choose depend- 
ence for the same task. Humility does not consist in adver- 
tising one’s weakness as such, but depends on the recognition 
of the infinite distance between the moral or religious ideal 
and the state which the individual knows to be his own. It 
has been a cloak for inactivity, but genuine humility is never 
that; it strives to bridge the gap, however hopeless, between 
himself and Divinity. Recognizing the greatness of God 
and the insignificance of the individual, two states may re- 
sult: man may see that he can only attain his ideal by the 
help of the greater power, and therefore recognizes his de- 
pendence upon God; not without striving, but on account of 
this very same recognition he realizes that the great power of 
foresight and knowledge of which he believes the Deity to 
be possessed is doing for him that which is best, and so he 
becomes resigned. In its full development, resignation is 
one of the most advanced of our religious states. 

There are other affective states which have had not a little 
influence in religion and upon its development. Courage, pity, 


386 EMOTIONS 


curiosity, unrest, social feeling, and the feeling of obligation - 
have all had an important place in Christianity, and still 
have. We must, however, curtail and leave these to the 
further investigation of the individual reader. The emo- 
tions concerned with worship and the sexual emotions will 
be considered in separate chapters, and ‘“‘Faith-state” has 
already been presented. 


CHAPTER XXVII 
WORSHIP 


“The plants look up to heaven, from whence 
They have their nourishment.”—SHAKESPEARE, 


THE discussion of Worship must necessarily be incomplete 
in this chapter. It has already been referred to in our dis- 
cussion of Sex, the chapter on Prayer takes up a vital factor 
of worship, and Denominationalism also touches our subject. 
We find sufficient, however, outside of these three chapters, 
to call for discussion at this time. 

We have taken up this subject in connection with the study 
of the emotions because of the large affective element in it. 
The sermon is supposed to be instructive and therefore of an 
intellectual character, but this is sometimes a gratuitous sup- 
position. Apart from the intellectual factor in the sermon 
and in an occasional hymn, worship appeals principally to the 
emotions. 

During the life of the apostles, and in the age following, 
worship was the spontaneous expression of religious feeling 
and, therefore, free from ceremonial. This continued until 
about the end of the second century when worship assumed 
a merit of its own on account of the belief that it was an 
acceptable service to God. In public, Christians knelt in 
prayer except on Sundays when they stood as a special token 
of joy. Extended passages of scripture were read and ex- 
pounded, the sermon developing from the exposition. In 
some places a discussion added an intellectual element to the 
service. In the Epistle of Clement of Rome and in the 

387 


388 WORSHIP 


Didache certain forms of prayer are found, but their use was 
optional. 

In the description of the Lord’s Day worship which Justin 
Martyr gives, the prayers of the president seem to be extem- 
poraneous, but the prayers of the people before the eucharist 
were evidently fixed in form. ‘The “Apostolic Constitu- 
tions,” a book written before the end of the second century, 
contains brief forms of prayer which were probably in use. 
In the Diocletian persecution there is no record of the search 
for or the surrender of books of ritual. That does not mean 
that forms did not exist, but that, on account of the secrecy 
surrounding the eucharist and other ceremonies, the forms 
were committed to memory and passed on in this way, rather 
than entrusted to writing. 

At the end of the fourth century, on account of the marked 
division of times and places into secular and sacred, worship 
became little else than forms and ceremonies—a veritable 
round of arbitrary observances imposed by ecclesiastical 
authority. Decorations and pictures came into the church, 
and the idolatry which soon arose among the ignorant was 
condemned by the church, but its cause, the extravagant vener- 
ation of the saints, was commended. About this time and 
later numerous liturgies arose, most of which bore the name 
of apostles, without any claim, though, to apostolic author- 
ship.’ This brief resumé of the beginnings of ceremonial in 
worship has been given in order that we may see two things: 
first, that it was a matter of development, and second, that it 
ministers to a psychological need. 

The term ‘‘worship” is used in a double sense. It may 
mean the feeling of reverence and love toward God, or it may 
mean the forms by which this feeling is expressed. The am- 
biguity and confusion in this double meaning is escaped in part 
because this feeling, if at all intense, must express itself. 

1G. P. Fisher, History of the Christian Church, pp. 65 }., 116 7f., 120. 


WORSHIP 389 


The expression may be in an elaborate ceremonial or it 
may be by putting into practice what our feelings impel 
us to do in the way of social service. These two are not 
mutually exclusive, yet either one or the other is liable to 
dominate us, and the lesser experience is correspondingly 
eliminated. 

We have represented here two types of mind, and all 
. minds are composite—made up more or less of each fac- 
tor. The one type grasps ideas more readily when aided by 
outward objects and symbols, while the other type is hin- 
dered thereby. The simple-minded person finds it hard to 
contemplate an abstract idea without some concrete object 
to represent it on which he can fix his attention; the more 
abstract-minded person likes to shut his eyes so as to be able 
to think more clearly and without distraction. The former 
type depends upon ceremonial for his religious life, the lat- 
ter undervalues or dislikes it. The dislike may be enhanced 
simply because the ceremonial is connected with religious 
things, which are too spiritual to be associated with the earthly, 
and to such persons, much ceremonial is not only derogatory 
to real worship but may be actually blasphemous. On the 
other hand, it is simply because of the spiritual and intangible 
quality of religion that others find the ceremonial so helpful 
and even necessary. 

It is impossible for any of us to think long in abstract 
terms, and in spite of all we can do, spirituality takes some 
form and develops a body. God becomes a big man and the 
throne, the symbol .of earthly power, his seat. What is true 
of the use of the symbol in our thinking is also true of the 
ceremonial in our worship. ‘The symbols are necessarily 
only partial presentations of the truth, yet they have more 
effect upon the mind than bare abstractions. Although a 
map or a picture may be rough it is of some value, and the 
parable, as used by Jesus, for example, was more effective 


390 | WORSHIP 


than ethical definition. In fact, there are many truths which 
can only be properly expressed through visible forms. We 
know that historical study is greatly aided by maps, pict- 
ures, portraits, and other objective means, and it is difficult 
to understand it without some such help. Thus the personi- 
fication of the beauty of virtue and the hideousness of vice is 
helpful to those who find it difficult to comprehend them in 
an abstract way. However crude the form, it may also be 
a great aid to faith in keeping the object of faith constantly 
before the mind and preventing the worshipper from forgetting 
it. Unless these persons or ideals in which we believe are 
frequently thought of, faith and the concomitant spiritual 
life deteriorates. 

The Quaker and the Ritualist not only disagree on the 
subject of ceremonial, but they are usually intolerant. They 
not only have different ideas, but on account of the dissimilar 
types of mind they are unable to appreciate each other’s 
point of view. This is especially true when the difference is 
one of taste rather than of fact. You may be able to con- 
vince a man that the earth is round rather than flat, but when 
you try to convince him that he should like olives and dislike 
onions when his taste is not of that kind, you have an impos- 
sible task to accomplish. He simply cannot understand why 
you should like the one and dislike the other when he is not 
thus constituted. There is the further disadvantage that not 
only is he unable to understand your tastes but he is unable to 
justify, explain, or give a reason for his own. There are, 
therefore, no controversies so bitter as those of taste and 
feeling, when the proper attitude seems to be simply to agree 
to disagree. In religion there are historical, legal and argu- 
mentative considerations, but these may be adjusted or even 
ignored; the questions of taste in art, difference in feeling, 
and use in symbol, the questions which are temperamental 
rather than general, furnish occasions for most of the dis- 


WORSHIP 391 


putes. The forms of worship vary not only with tempera- 
ment but with belief and custom. 

The great danger connected with ceremonial is, of course, 
the liability to displace the Deity with symbol or form, or to 
make fetishes of symbols. The more rigid and unchanging 
the form, the more liable is this to happen. It is curious, yet 
none the less true, that in the past the rigidity of form has 
caused more dissensions than the rigidity of creed, and either 
far more than the departure from the moral life for which 
the church stands. The causes for dissent are usually in 
inverse proportion to their real importance. If the external 
forms were left plastic so that they could change with the 
growth or alteration of our religious experience, their value 
would be greatly enhanced to the cause of religion, and the 
great injury which they are capable of doing would be pre- 
vented. 

The Greek Church has always laid much emphasis on 
the form, but less on real religious life. Even in the churches 
where religion is supposed to be more developed, we have 
been surprised to find insistence on form and external devo- 
tion conjoined with a notoriously immoral life. The trouble 
is that in some cases worship is merely a matter of the senses, 
appealing through external objects and practices, but does 
not involve the whole man. Religion cannot be a matter of 
the senses only, any more than it can neglect the senses. The 
esthetic nature is a real part of man and indeed a part very 
closely related to religious ideas—so closely related in some 
cases that the individual is unable to distinguish between 
them. In the early religions God seemed to reveal himself 
principally through the sense of beauty, and to-day we may 
see Him more clearly in beautiful surroundings. “It is pos- 
sible to blaspheme God under His attribute of beauty as well 
as under that of truth or of holiness. And, on the other 
hand, we may worship Him under this attribute no less than 


392 WORSHIP 


under His other attributes.” This was very clearly pointed 
out by Mr. Ruskin in whom real worship consisted so much 
of this one factor. To stunt the growth of any element of 
real manhood is opposed to true religion, so we must make 
room in our religion for the development, or at least the ex- 
pression of, our esthetic nature; and we must not permit 
the existence of a separation between the arts of expression 
and the religious life, to which the Puritan spirit is so prone. 
Unfortunately, among Protestants the first question has 
been, ‘‘Is it Roman?” and if so it could not be too hastily 
excluded, regardless of the beauty or the value. The primary 
inquiry should be, ‘Is it legitimate and helpful?” if so it 
must be retained, for not everything that is Roman is bad. 
Some ceremonies are matters of custom, habit, and taste, 
while others spring naturally from the part of the service to 
which they adhere. There is, of course, a presumption in 
favor of that which is old and widespread in the church, but 
a distinction should be drawn between the correct and incor- 
rect adherence to traditions, customs, and habits. Ceremonial 
should either be a spontaneous expression of feeling, or else 
the form which, although initiated by others perhaps cen- 
turies ago, most adequately expresses our religious emotions. 
On account of the reciprocal relation of cause and effect 
it is not easy to determine how far unity of doctrine and feel- 
ing precedes agreement in ceremonial, or to what extent it 
follows it. Ceremonial is both the fruit and the seed of the 
doctrine. While they are closely related they are really in- 
dependent, for while two persons might agree in ceremonial 
they might differ in doctrine or, on the other hand, agree in 
doctrine and express it differently. Since the feelings are so 
intimately connected with the external impressions, the sur- 
roundings of worship are therefore a school of emotion and 
taste, and assist or detract according to their character. 
1F. Granger, The Soul of a Christian, p. 207. 


WORSHIP 303 


Perhaps, though, the difference between the Puritan and the 
Ritualist could best be reconciled by adopting the position 
of the former for private worship, and of the latter for public 
worship, for worship is both individual and corporate. 

“But it is also to be remembered that there are, in reality, 
no such things as ‘mere externals.’ Every external implies 
and has reference to something internal, and must be esti- 
mated accordingly. Ceremonial is an external because it is 
an expression of an inner reality; this reality is often of such 
a sort as to baffle expression by any other means. Rever- 
ence, for example, is more eloquently signified by the publi- 
can’s bowed head than in any other way. Irreverence is 
equally signified by an attitude or a gesture. No other method 
of expression could be so expressive. And in general it must 
be urged that externals are not ‘mere externals’ but things 
pregnant with importance, because of that state of mind 
which they signify or express. 

“Ceremonial, again, is expressive of apes truths. 
Sometimes these are better defined by a gesture or a symbol 
than by theological definition. Many a poor sinner can ex- 
press his trust in his Divine Savior far better by kissing his 
crucifix than by attempting to expound his conception of the 
doctrine of the atonement.” * 

In dealing with the subject of sex it was indicated that the 
feminine characteristics were exalted in church worship. 
Beauty rather than strength has been sought. Sermons 
must abound in rhetoric and oratory rather than in rugged 
simplicity, in beautiful descriptions rather than in logical 
thought. Attractive appearances, fastidious exactness, good 
form, and conformity to social rules have always been em- 
phasized. The music also must be artistic. All the elements 
which tend to produce emotion, and therefore minister to the 
feminine mind, have predominated, and ruggedness, mas- 

1W. H. Frere, The Principles of Religious Ceremonial, pp. 11 }. 


304 WORSHIP 


culinity, has been made subservient. Starbuck found that 
girls express a pleasure in religious observance more fre- 
quently than boys by a ratio of seventeen to seven, while, on 
the contrary, boys express a distinct dislike for it more often 
than girls by a ratio of twenty-one to nine. This throws fur- . 
ther light on the sex question in religion. Men like a femi- 
nine woman, undoubtedly, but they do not like to have to 
express their masculinity in a feminine service; they do not like 
to act like women any more than women like to act like men. 

Hylan * presents three factors as the legitimate and valua- 
ble elements in worship. They are, 1. The ideals suggested 
by the sermon are the important part of worship, but sug- 
gestions of artistic decorations and the service as a whole 
assist the imagination to form effective ideals of conduct. 
2. Feelings play a more primitive réle, and in worship proper 
they form the necessary motor force which makes the service 
effective. In answer to the questionnaire, emotional rather 
than intellectual effects were most prominent. The religious 
emotions may be so intense as to destroy all others. 3. The 
expression of emotion through ritual has an important value. 
The motor expression of an emotion tends to keep it from 
merely evaporating. Feeling without some expression is bad 
training, for soon the emotion will cease to be a motor power. 
In the Lord’s Supper, therefore, we have a good illustration 
of true worship in first, the mental content of worship, second, 
the emotional accompaniment, and third, the immediate ex- 
pression and permanent effect of the first two. 

The religious emotions, in common with all emotions, 
may be divided into two classes. The one of which fear is 
the keynote, consists of painful and depressive states, the 
other, touched by tenderness, consists of pleasurable and 
expansive states.? Ceremonial ministers to the inciting of 


1J. P. Hylan, Public Worship, pp. 65-88. 
*'T. Ribot, The Psychology of the Emotions, p. 324. 


WORSHIP 305 


both classes, and they should express themselves, through 
the developing aid of worship, in the moral control of conduct. 

There are three ways in which public worship is psycho- 
logically valuable to religious development. In the first 
place, consciousness is controlled and directed into religious 
paths. The control is both negative and positive. The 
seclusion of the church supplies a condition where there is a 
lack of distracting ideas not equalled by the hermit’s cell; 
and, on the other hand, the architecture, decorations, music, 
social influence, and a developed taste for worship are posi- 
tively attractive, so that consciousness is not only not dis- 
tracted but is held by public worship in religious lines far 
better than in other ways. In the second place there is a col- 
lective suggestibility. We have already seen one effect of this 
in our study of the crowd. Whatever suggestibility there 
may be in symbolism, the effect is greatly heightened by the 
presence of others—the emotional stimulation is much in- 
creased. The third point is this: the bodily posture con- 
nected with any feeling, if assumed, brings about this feeling 
or tends to strengthen it if already present. This posture 
may be natural, or one artificially connected with the emo- 
tion and inculcated through training, the effect is the same. 
The hypnotized person shows this very well. Clench his fist 
for him and without further suggestion he becomes pug- 
nacious; in the attitude of shaking hands he is friendly; 
clasp his hands and he prays. Even in a normal state it is 
impossible for us long to be sad with the corners of our 
mouths turned up, or to be cheerful with a frown and an ugly 
look—the bodily attitude influences the emotion and the 
expression reacts so as to heighten feeling. ‘The suggestion 
of devotion is strengthened by the attitude of prayer and by 
the surroundings which we have all associated with worship. 
The favorable influence of a special environment is a great 
aid to real worship. 


396 WORSHIP 


There are two factors of worship which we may be able to 
deal with more in detail. Especially is this true of public 
worship. In Christianity, public worship is dependent not 
a little on the observance of Sunday as a day specially set 
apart for that purpose. How the idea of a special day for 
worship originated we do not know; its origin is hidden in 
antiquity. Hebrew tradition sinks its roots in the act of cre- 
ation, and makes God the direct originator of the rest (Sab- 
bath) day. Among primitive people there is evidence of its 
origin being centered around the lunar feasts, the full moon, 
the new moon, and hence every seventh day. 

Whether or not God directly instituted the Sabbath, there 
is no doubt about His originating it indirectly, for in man’s 
nature we find the true reason for the day. Science has come 
to the aid of religion in demonstrating this. It has been 
proved by an analysis of the blood and in other ways, that 
the nightly rest does not provide sufficient recuperation, and ~ 
the need of an extra day occasionally is seen. France tried 
one day in ten but found it insufficient. The testimony be- 
fore the British Parliament by physicians and scientists was 
to the effect that some extra days of rest were needed; “‘to 
maintain a condition of vigor a supplementary rest of about 
one day in seven”’ was advised. 

In answer to a questionnaire on the subject * a large pro- 
portion of the respondents signified that rest was the most 
important factor in producing a Sabbath feeling. Rest does 
not mean the cessation of activity but rather the exercising 
of functions not ordinarily used. The joy which comes from 
this is psycho-physical—the use of unused paths to discharge 
a superabundance of accumulated energy. 

The early Jewish Sabbath was a time of joyous feasting 
and merry-making until after the priestly code came into 


1 J. P. Hylan, Public Worship, pp. 15-45, for a discussion of the whole 
subject. 


WORSHIP 307 


effect at the end of the Babylonian Captivity. Then there 
was an effort to please God by manifold rites, and by sacri- 
fice, which, together with the sad environment, made the day 
funereal. While it would be interesting to trace the develop- 
ment of the Lord’s Day from the Jewish Sabbath, this is not 
our province; it is well to note in passing that the early 
Christian Sunday was joyous, and the Puritan Sunday was 
an unnatural development. 

I cannot help thinking that not a little of our present lack 
of Sunday observance is due to calling the day ‘‘The Sab- 
bath.”” Why it should be called the Sabbath which it is not, 
rather than Sunday or The Lord’s Day, which it is, I do not 
know. The idea of the Sabbath is that which the Jews held 
at the time of Christ, dreary, sad, awful, and, of course, de- 
cidedly unattractive. So long as the word is used no other 
interpretation is allowable, for this is the idea which the New 
Testament distinctly gives and the Puritans emphasized. 
The idea which Jesus presented, in contrast to the dreary 
negation of Judaism, was that it was lawful to do good on the 
day, and if the resurrection anniversary means anything, it 
means joy and happiness. The celebration of Sunday should 
be joyous, and if this were understood there would be more of 
a tendency to the religious observation of the day. The 
present desecration is due to a reaction—a natural reaction— 
against ‘“‘The Sabbath”; the Lord’s Day, the Sunday, 
idea contrasted with that should present such an ideal 
that men would welcome it rather than try to shun it. 
Nature demands a day for rest, religion demands a day 
for public worship. “The Sabbath” cannot furnish such 
to Christianity, “‘Sunday”’—‘‘The Lord’s Day”—is our 
hope. 

Music is always an important feature in worship. Chants 
and crude songs are found in the worship of the most primi- 
tive people, and musical instruments are used to intensify 


308 WORSHIP 


and emphasize the rhythm.’ Elisha requested the minstrel 
to play that he might prophesy, and when the minstrel 
played ‘‘the hand of the Lord came upon him.” In the 
Christian church at the outset the music consisted mostly of 
the singing of psalms, and flourished especially in Syria and 
in Alexandria. It was both choral and congregational, but 
was very simple in its character. Pliny describes some alter- 
nate singing in the worship of Christians, and the introduc- 
tion of antiphonal singing at Antioch is ascribed by tradition 
to Ignatius. In the third century, or earlier, the anthem of 
the angels (Luke 2:14) was expanded from the Greek 
original into the Latin hymn, the Gloria in Excelsis of later 
date.? We find that hymns were also used to counteract the 
Arians. About the twelfth or thirteenth centuries the hym- 
nology of the Latin church had a singularly solemn and 
majestic tone, and was inseparably wedded to the music. 
Its cadence was musical rather than metrical, and to be ap- 
preciated it must be heard and not read. 

We notice a contrast in Protestant hymnology, especially 
at the time of the Reformation. The characteristic of the 
Protestant religion is the free and joyous spirit inspired by 
the doctrine of gratuitous forgiveness, and this was evidenced 
by the outburst of music and poetry, especially in Germany. © 
Luther himself published thirty-six hymns, twenty-one of 
which were original, and music made a corresponding ad- 
vance. His hymn, ‘‘A mighty fortress is our God,” has been 
called by Heine ‘‘the Marseillaise of the Reformation.” 
Since that time the church has never been in need of great 
hymns, but unfortunately there is a tendency at the present 
time to neglect the great hymns, and to emphasize some new 
sacred song with poor literary form and worse music. 

The best hymns and music stimulate religious feelings 


1J. P. Hylan, Public Worship, p. 61 f. 
2G. P. Fisher, History of the Christian Church, p. 65. 


WORSHIP 399 


and give proper vent to them, so it is needful that we have 
the best. There is little doubt that singing is a very popular 
part of worship, and is sometimes considered the most in- 
fluential part of the service. The reason for this is that the 
hymns are the most direct and spontaneous expression of per- 
sonal experience, and the heart throb calls for and receives 
a response. That is what causes hymns to live longer than 
creeds. No one to-day believes the same as the psalmists, 
yet their hymns of milleniums ago are still fresh, attractive 
and valuable. 

Coe has given us an analysis of Hymnology and Sacred 
Songs from the psychological standpoint. Calling attention 
to the fact that the hymn is not only the expression of emo- 
tion but the quickener and inspirer of emotion, he also points 
out that hymns should be of such a character as to inspire all 
the emotions in the proper proportion to develop a well- 
balanced life. An examination of various hymnals proves 
this to be anything but so. The tabulated analysis of one 
hymnal is as follows: 


“‘Number of hymns in the entire collection . 1,117 
Number of hymns on Christ, the Christian, 


and the Church A . 608 
On Life and Character of Christ, fenrctan 
Activity, and Church Work : ehad 


On the Life Activities of Christ, Christian Ac- 
tivity, and Charities and Reforms, all ob- 
jectively viewed : - : : AT ty 


“Jn other words, less than twenty-four per cent. of the 
hymns on Christ, the Christian, and the Church have to do 
with the life and character of Christ, Christian activity, and 
Church work. Again, less than three per cent. of the said 
hymns on Christ, Christian, and Church treat of the life 
activities of Christ, Christian activity, and charities and re- 
forms in an objective spirit. Finally, it follows that, of the 


400 WORSHIP 


entire collection, only about one and a half per cent. take up 
the practical problems of the everyday activities of the adult 
Christian in this spirit." Now, not only is one side of all 
lives left undeveloped, but some temperaments are not 
ministered to at all. Our great need in hymnology to-day is 
a number of hymns on social goodness, rather than so many 
which cultivate sentiment. 

The will must be stirred in order that men may do as well 
as feel. In an examination of the popular revival, prayer 
meeting, and Sunday School songs, Coe finds that ‘feeling is 
still in the ascendency, but it is of a mobile and superficial 
kind. There is nothing of the profound emotion and stately 
movement of the standard hymn.” ‘Thought, composition, 
meter, and music agree in deficiencies. He quotes one song, 
‘“‘Let Him in,” beginning “There’s a stranger at the door,” 
which is characterized not as the worst, but as one of the 
best of the recent revival songs. The criticism is as follows: 
“You perceive that the thought and composition, especially 
after the first stanza, are decidedly patchy. With the omis- 
sion of two ‘ands,’ the second, third, and fourth stanzas 
could be read in inverse order of the lines as well as in the 
order given. More than that, leaving out the last two lines— 
the only ones having any obvious rhetorical connection—we 
could take the remainder, write one line on each of thirteen 
slips of paper, shake the slips in a hat, draw them out indis- 
criminately, and, taking them in the new order, have nearly, 
if not quite, as good a poem as the one before us. And yet 
this composition is probably less open to serious objection 
than the majority of songs of its class.”” The emotionalism of 
most of our hymns is such as ministers to youth, but that of 
our popular revival songs being characterized by an appeal to 


*G. A. Coe, The Spiritual Life, pp. 225 ff. See also C. W. Super, 
“The Psychology of Christian Hymns,’ The American Journal of 
Religious Psychology and Education, III, pp. 1-15. 


WORSHIP 4OI 


the mercurial and impressional, ministers more to childhood. 
The hymns and songs for maturity and of action are wanting, 
and the need of them is much felt. We need a few masculine 
hymns. 


CHAPTER XXVIII 
PRAYER 


“We, ignorant of ourselves, 
Beg often our own harms, which the wise Powers 
Deny us for our good; so find we profit, 
By losing our prayers.” 
—SHAKESPEARE. 


No religion has ever been known which did not contain 
prayer in some form. It is the most widespread, reliable, and 
important factor in worship. It has always occupied a very 
noticeable place in Christianity, and notwithstanding the 
many interesting and instructive forms found among other 
religions, we must confine our attention to this. To ask why 
men pray would be to ask why men are constituted as they 
are, for it has proven itself to be a universal characteristic. 
In some way it ministers to a psychological need. The belief 
in an infinite power awakens emotions and sentiments which 
best find their expression in prayer. Professor James has put 
it very well in the following words: 

‘“‘We hear, in these days of scientific enlightenment, a great 
deal of discussion about the efficacy of prayer; and many 
reasons are given us why we should not pray, whilst others 
are given us why we should. But in all this very little is said 
of the reason why we do pray, which is simply that we cannot 
help praying. It seems probable that, in spite of all that 
‘science’ may do to the contrary, men will continue to pray 
to the end of time, unless their mental nature changes in a 
manner which nothing we know should lead us to expect. 


The impulse to pray is a necessary consequence of the fact 
402 


PRAYER 403 


that whilst the innermost of the empirical selves of a man is 
a Self of the soczal sort, it yet can find its only adequate Socius 
in an ideal world.” * 

Ideally it is the fruit of the filial attitude to the Supreme 
Power, and in this attitude of sonship we must find our con- 
ceptions of prayer expressed, however imperfectly. No 
more than in the earthly family, however, may we expect 
the expression of the different members to agree, but we 
must be prepared to find it vary according to the tempera- 
ment and age of different persons, and in the same person 
according to circumstances. If this filial attitude is to be 
truly maintained by each individual, he must not try to copy 
anyone else, not even those who have ‘“‘the gift of prayer,” 
but endeavor in his own way, and in a manner which best 
expresses his own religious life, to come into personal touch 
with the Father. The effort may be crude and far removed 
from the ideal, but if personal relationship is established by 
any man, we must, therefore, say that he has prayed. “Its 
[prayer’s] human analogue is not petition, but intercourse 
with a friend. Primarily we desire such intercourse as an end 
in itself, simply because our friend is our friend, and the fact 
of converse with him manifests and satisfies our friendship.” ? 

Our justification for prayer, then, is intrinsic, wrapped up 
in the experience itself, and not dependent upon aught else 
than the relationship established by the very act. It therefore 
accomplishes its chief end by its mere existence. ‘This rela- 
tionship established through prayer is the very essence of 
religion, and, as has been pointed out,’ it distinguishes relig- 
ion from moral and esthetic sentiments. This intercourse 
between man and the higher powers with whom he feels him- 
self related is the deepest mysticism. ‘This is the one experi- 


1W. James, Psychology, I, p. 316. 
2]. R. Illingworth, Christian Character. 
8A. Sabatier, Outlines of a Philosophy of Religion, p. 27. 


404 PRAYER 


ence which makes mystics out of all persons who are at all 
religious; but in this mysticism the real, vital power of prayer 
consists. | 

So long as restrictions in form, place, and media exist, 
prayer is thereby robbed of its spontaneity, mysticism, and, 
therefore, essence. Repetition in prayer is a hindrance, as 
though the filial relationship could be established by me- 
chanical means.’ Yet it is recognized as very common in all 
religions; there is a belief shared by all sects ‘‘that the bene- 
fits of this universe are to be secured by the perfunctory lip- 
service or barrel-service of human beings.” ? “Prayer, even 
among Christians, is apt to degenerate into a dull, mechani- 
cal uniformity, and to become scarcely less perfunctory than 
that which the Thibetans grind out of their prayer-machine.” * 

Restrictions of place have been characteristic of most re- 
ligions. ‘Temples and special holy places have been desig- 
nated as the particular dwelling place of the Deity, and here 
men came to meet God, feeling that nowhere else could they 
communicate with Him at all, or at least, so well. Jesus 
sounded the death-knell to such a necessity when He declared 
that not in any particular mountain, but in “spirit and in 
truth’? God must be worshipped. We must not, however, 
disregard the significance of the influence of certain places 
where men have habitually prayed, which I have tried to 
bring out in the chapter on Worship. 

In regard to the media, let me quote the following: 

“Every worshipper may go directly to God, with the 
prayer of faith; nor may any man intervene as an indispen- 
sable, or even as a particularly favored medium, between 
any other and his God. At the same time the power and 
helpful influence of associations and favorable circumstances 


1 J. Moses, Pathological Aspects of Religions, p. 137. 
2M. D. Conway, Idols and Ideals, p. 68. 
®W. H. D. Adams, Curiosities of Superstition, p. 2. 


PRAYER 405 


cannot be neglected by any form of religious cult; neither 
can the social benefit and spiritual assistance which the 
better and stronger may always render to the less developed 
and weaker be neglected. For disregard of the one and neg- 
lect of the other would both do violence to those very psycho- 
logical characteristics which give rise to the necessity, and 
secure the benefits, of any religious cult at all.’ * 

Concerning the type of prayer which might be recognized 
as a universal ideal, I can do no better than to quote again. 

“But the form which is called after his name, ‘the Lord’s 
Prayer,’ is the universal type of all true prayer; it thus em- 
bodies the essential features of the ideal religious cult. 
For it expresses the attitude of filial piety as a perfect confi- 
dence in God, the Heavenly Father; as sympathy and love 
toward all men who are children of this Father; and as the dis- 
position to govern one’s own life according to the Divine Will, 
in a constant loving trust that this Will for us is best for us. 
This prayer is the perfect expression of the end of religion, 
attained in the spiritual communion of the finite Self with 
the Infinite Self; it sets forth in few and simple words the 
voluntary relations in which the realized content of faith 
places the human life to the life of God.” ? 

If, as is stated above, prayer is the essence of religion, a 
study of the forms and contents of prayers should indicate 
the nature of religion at any time; such we find to be the 
fact. Coe has pointed out that we spend less time in prayer 
than did our fathers, and while they agonized and stormed 
the celestial gates, we are less confident and more confused 
in our ideas concerning prayer. The confusion and change, 
he thinks, is due to the following six causes. 1. Active work 
rather than submission is the keynote to-day. 2. The per- 
nicious distinction between sacred and secular is becoming 


1G. T. Ladd, Philosophy of Religion, I, p. 538. 
*G. T. Ladd, Philosophy of Religion, I, p. 536. 


406 PRAYER 


obliterated. 3. The Fatherhood of God is being more em- 
phasized. 4. Results show that prayers for the weather, etc., 
are ineffective. 5. Prayers peculiar to certain temperaments 
have been exalted, and tears rather than action have been 
preferred. 6. Material prosperity makes us forget prayer.’ 
Whether or not these reasons are exhaustive, they are at least 
suggestive, and to the results of the change which are psy- 
chological, rather than to the cause which is largely theologi- 
cal, we must now turn our thoughts. 

While there has been some argument against the practice 
of prayer at all, the principal protest has been against a par- 
ticular style of prayer. Some think that men should rely on 
their own efforts rather than waste their time in prayer, and 
would advise Christians to heed the words spoken concerning 
primitive peoples. ‘‘Thus man by appealing to the rain-god, 
instead of using scientific means to promote rain-fall or to 
supply the lack of irrigation, has hindered his development 
for centuries.”’? The great weight of objection has not been 
against prayer as communion, but against prayer as petition. 

“The world is to be made over into the kingdom of Christ, 
not by the easy way of begging the Almighty to do the work, 
but by the vastly harder way of doing it ourselves. The 
effectiveness of prayer does not consist in inducing God to 
do something, but at most, in removing obstacles that tend 
to defeat his loving purpose. Prayer is not merely means to 
an end, but its end is in itself. What we must do is to make 
God end and not means. The simple believer who asks that 
he may have rain for his wheat-field, truly prays. His pray- 
ing will not alter the order of nature, in which rain has its 
place, but through his prayer he assumes a relation of con- 
scious dependence and trust toward God, and rightly assumes 


1G. A. Coe, The Religion of a Mature Mind, pp. 329-342. 
*?H. M. Stanley, ‘The Psychology of Religion,” Psychological Re- 
view, V, p. 254. 


PRAYER 407 


that God is interested in wheat.”’' Taking as a text the fu- 
tility of prayer regarding the weather, and quoting many ex- 
amples of the failure of such prayers to accomplish results, 
a sermon may be preached in which the petitional element 
in prayer is relegated to the scrap heap. 

Few, perhaps, would assign the power of regulating the 
weather which was comparatively recently attributed to a 
Boston clergyman. ‘The minister at Sudbury, being at the 
Thursday lecture at Boston, heard the officiating clergyman 
praying for rain. As soon as the service was over he went to 
the petitioner and said, ‘You Boston ministers, as soon as a 
tulip wilts under your windows, go to church and pray for 
rain, until all Concord and Sudbury are under water.’”’ ? 
On the other hand, very few wish to be confined to the theory 
of a mechanism which leaves even the Almighty no freedom. 
But even in such a machine, prayer—petitional prayer—has 
a place. 

“Even the most strictly mechanical view of the world- 
order must admit that prayer may, under certain circum- 
stances, have an important effect in modifying the course of 
physical events. Indeed, within certain limits not easy to be 
fixed, the more strict and minute the tenure of the principle 
of mechanism, the more sure and widespreading becomes 
the physical influence of the subjective attitude of prayer. 
Taken in its strictest form, the mechanical conception re- 
gards the Cosmos as a totality, including all of man’s life, 
which is so sensitive throughout the whole to every slightest 
change in every minutest part, that ceaseless and boundless 
vibrations proceed from every finger point, no matter how 
delicate its touch may seem to be. Especially does this con- 
ception connect together, in terms of some comprehensive 


1G. A. Coe, The Religion of a Mature Mind, pp. 331, 337, 341, 353, 


and 357. 
?R. W. Emerson, Lectures and Biographical Sketches, p. 363. 


408 PRAYER 


theory of relations, all the phenomena of human conscious- 
ness and certain correlated changes in the bodily mechanism. 
No more interior, unheard whisper, or even muttered thought, 
of a prayer could, then, fail of its record in some correspond- 
ing physical event. . . . The same Being of the World which 
expresses its will in souls as the conscious attitude of prayer, 
is expressing the same will in countless, unknown other ways, 
throughout its own entire being.” * 

If we may make a place in our system for the freedom of 
man, then we open a gap which might allow of some freedom 
to God, if for no other end than to pursue His strict purpose 
which man’s freedom may have, to some extent, disar- 
ranged, or to assist man in freely conforming to this pur- 
pose. However, we must allow the theologians and philoso- 
phers to arrange the possibility of such freedom, and trust 
that their permission may not be withheld. 

In answer to a questionnaire regarding the results of 
prayer,” 83 per cent. of the respondents thought the results 
_ wholly subjective, 12 per cent. thought them both subjective 
and objective, and but 5 per cent. considered them mostly 
objective. A large number of the respondents to another 
questionnaire * seem to be sure of the two-sidedness of prayer 
and say, “I pray because God hears.”’ Even a large number 
of persons who are theoretically sceptical state that they be- 
lieve that God does send things. Nearly 70 per cent. of Beck’s 
respondents say that they feel the presence of a higher power, 
while in the act of prayer, and this feeling of the presence of 
God is very real to some persons at such times. I have 
already noted that at one time St. Francis tried to pray, but 
so great was the sense of the presence of God that until 


1G. T. Ladd, Philosophy of Religion, Il, pp. 377 f. 

?F. O. Beck, ‘‘Prayer: A Study in its History and Psychology,” The 
American Journal of Religious Psychology and Education, II, p. 119. 

* J. B. Pratt, The Psychology of Religious Belief, p. 273. 


PRAVER 409 


daybreak he could do nothing but reiterate the words, “‘ My 
God! My God!” Almost every answer to Beck’s questions 
feels the manifestation of unusual power which gives ability 
to accomplish ends, but 75 per cent. are very positive in their 
conviction that it is always a mistake to pray for a change 
in the weather. The other 25 per cent. have a variety of 
convictions or none at all. 

The consensus of opinion, both scientific and general, 
seems to be that prayer has real subjective value, but does 
not bring about objective results.‘ Of the former contention 
there seems to be little doubt. Men agree in the statement 
that in and by prayer they receive strength, insight, comfort, 
and peace. We must take the testimony of individuals for 
this, and this testimony is almost unanimous. For example, 
take the following: 

“Times without number, in moments of supreme doubt, 
disappointment, discouragement, unhappiness, a certain 
prayer formula, which by degrees has built itself up in my 
mind, has been followed in its utterance by a quick and as- 
tonishing relief. Sometimes doubt has been transferred into 
confident assurance, mental weakness utterly routed by 
strengti, self-distrust changed into self-confidence, fear into 
courage, dismay into confident and brightest hope. These 
transitions have sometimes come by degrees—in the course, 
let us say, of an hour or two; at other times they have been 
instantaneous, flashing up in brain and heart as if a powerful 
electric stroke had cleared the air.” ” 

Even if these and similar effects are admitted our main 
problem of the efficacy of prayer yet remains. Let me 
state it in the words of Mr. Beck. ‘‘The experimental 


1 Compare D. S. Hill, “The Education and Problems of the Protestant 
Ministry,” American Journal of Religious Psychology and Education, 


1 pps 227). 
2 Unbekannt, “The Art of Prayer,” Outlook, LXXXIII, pp. 857 }. 


410 PRAYER 


method cannot completely solve the question as to whether 
the answer to a petition comes from a superior force of energy 
(God), as cause and effect, or is but the reflex effort upon the 
one who prays. It would require the testimony of God to 
establish this beyond a peradventure.”* For a number of 
years it has seemed evident that the factor which would have 
most influence in eliminating God from the position of the 
direct answerer of prayer was the study of the subsconscious- 
ness, and I have expected a full treatise by someone on the 
subject. It has come, partially at least, from the pen of Miss 
Strong.” Some further suggestions have also been made 
along the line of reflex answer to prayer.* The following is 
an epitome of the conclusions of these articles. 

The idea of God, dominating consciousness and bringing 
all thoughts and desires into captivity to itself, is capable of 
giving a peculiar satisfaction. The adoration of God, 7. e., 
the esthetic contemplation of God, is a constant factor of 
most prayers, and brings peace and quiet by doing away with 
some of the distressing conditions of mental activity. The 
idea of God, being a counterpart of man’s aspirations after 
the ideal, produces a positive pleasure when dominating con- 
sciousness, because man is thereby enabled to reach his ideal. 
Beck found prayer to be largefy the result of habit, and in 
habitual actions there is a release of tension which brings 
about peace. P. Brooks defined prayer as ‘‘the complete rest 
of the life of man upon the life of God.” If this state can be 
attained, relaxation and peace must follow. ‘The feeling of 
strength and power which often follows prayer is due “‘to the 


1F. O. Beck, ‘Prayer: A Study in its History and Psychology,” The 
American Journal of Religious Psychology and Education, II, p. 121. 

2A. L. Strong, “‘The Relation of the Subconscious to Prayer,’ The 
American Journal of Religious Psychology and Education, II, pp. 
160-167. 

’S. W. Ransom, ‘Studies in the Psychology of Prayer,” The Ameri- 
can Journal of Religious Psychology and Education, I, pp. 129-142. 


PRAYER AII 


recuperation of the mental faculties under the relieved ten- 
sion, and partly to the removal by suggestion of all inhibiting 
ideas and the consequent ease of action along habitual lines 
in the carrying out of the one habitual idea.”’ Prayer for 
specific virtues or special blessings for self is often productive 
of results. The effects are due to auto-suggestion. Sudden 
happiness so often felt is due to the relief of conscious tension 
and falling back upon the subconscious organization. When 
we give up the struggle and pray and relax, we give the sub- 
consciousness a chance to work, and extra normal mentality 
is the result. Miss Strong concludes as follows: 

“The laws of mental procedure are not all discovered yet. 
Until they are, the last word has, of course, not been said 
with regard to either ‘objective’ or subjective ‘answers’ to 
prayer. Yet the percentage of yet unexplained cases is so 
small that it seems fair to assume that in time all answers to 
prayer will be seen to come as the result of definite psychic 
laws and that many of these laws will be those which are 
peculiarly appropriate to subconscious activities. The 
prayer-attitude is a definite psychic state and has its natural 
psychic consequents. Its value for the higher life of the in- 
dividual is rather increased than diminished by the discovery 
of its laws. And the psychologist would agree with the re- 
ligious leader in holding that this value lies not in the specific 
phrases of prayer, but in its more general aspects, as meditation 
and relaxation and in the peace and unification of aim re- 
sulting therefrom. ‘We have,’ to quote James, ‘in the fact 
that the conscious person is continuous with a wider self 
through which saving experiences come, a positive content of 
religious experience which, it seems to me, is literally and 
positively true, as far as it goes. The practical needs of re- 
ligion are met by this belief.’ Least of all has the immanental 
view of theology any quarrel to make with psychology for 
finding the answer to prayer in our own wider self. And 


A412 PRAYER 


taken in connection with an idealistic view of philosophy, 
the conception of prayer and its relation to the subconscious 
assumes a meaning much more vitally religious and, per- 
haps, much more in accord with the common conception of 
prayer than appears from the bare discussion of its psychol- 
ogy.” 

Before commenting on this, let us turn to another province 
of subconscious activity which has been already brought out 
in our study of Stigmatization, Faith Cure, etc. In our 
chapter on Faith Cure we reserved the question concerning 
the efficacy of prayer in disease until this time, and we must 
now take it up. At the 1905 annual meeting of the British 
Medical Association, Dr. Theodore B. Hyslop, Superintend- 
ent of Bethlem Royal Hospital, a specialist in neurology 
and in the treatment of mental diseases, said, ‘‘ As an alienist 
and one whose whole life has been concerned with the suf- 
ferings of the mind, I would state that of all hygienic meas- 
ures to counteract disturbed sleep, depressed spirits, and all 
the miserable sequels of a distressed mind, I would undoubt- 
edly give the first place to the simple habit of prayer. . . . 
Let there but be a habit of nightly communion, not as a 
mendicant or repeater of words more adapted to the tongue 
of a sage, but as an humble individual who submerges or 
asserts his individuality as an integral part of a greater whole. 
Such a habit does more to clean the spirit and strengthen the 
soul to overcome mere incidental emotionalism than any other 
therapeutic agent known to me”? Notwithstanding the 
weight of authority which might be accumulated along this 
line, the objection might well be made that this is not essen- 
tially different from the cases already cited of the cure of 
doubt, discouragement, etc., but that insanity is simply an 
exaggeration of such conditions. We must look at the more 
distinctively bodily ills. 

1“ A Medical Estimate of Prayer,” Editorial, Outlook, LXXXI, p. 110. 


PRAYER 413 


“‘As regards prayer for the sick, if any medical fact can be 
considered to stand firm, it is that in certain environments 
prayer may contribute to recovery, and should be encouraged 
as a therapeutic measure. Being a normal factor of moral 
health in the person, its omission would be deleterious.’ * 
This may be predicated of prayer, regardless of the form of 
the disease. I do not mean by this, however, that a cure will 
be made regardless of the disease, but that the liability of 
cure is greater regardless of the disease. Absence of worry, 
cheerfulness, and hopefulness are valuable therapeutic aids, 
and the confident expectation of a cure is incomparable 
medicine. From a therapeutic standpoint, any physician 
would far rather have a praying patient whose life corre- 
sponds with his prayers than one who gives not this assist- 
ance. Science recognizes the value of prayer, and further 
recognizes that this value is concerned in some way with the 
subconsciousness. We may now state our problem again. 
All the subjective value of prayer is of.subconscious origin. 
Does it come about simply through the general psychological 
laws on account of a certain attitude of mind of the individual 
who prays, or is there a special and direct answer on the part 
of God? 

It will be remembered that I have already opined that if 
God works directly through and on the individual He works 
through the subconsciousness. This, of course, is only a theory 
and the necessity of the theory is conditioned by an “if” —a 
large ‘if’? some would say. ‘‘We must look upon natural 
law as simply God’s way of doing things, and invariable be- 
cause his intelligence and his purpose change not.” Let us 
for the time admit this, are we yet so familiar with every 
phase of natural law that we can definitely say that God’s 
working through the subconsciousness is not a part of this 


1W. James, The Varieties of Religious Experience, p. 463. 
2G. A. Coe, The Religion of a Mature Mind, p. 352. 


A414 PRAYER 


same natural law? Can we say that this is an infraction of 
natural law? May we not, on the other hand, say that it 
conforms to some psychic laws, e. g., influence, suggestion, 
etc., and conserves rather than infringes on natural law? I 
am simply asking questions in order to leave an opening for 
such as are assured of a direct answer in a subjective way. 
We may have a machine which does a certain work. By the 
product we cannot always be sure whether man-power, 
horse-power, steam-power, or electric-power is used. It 
makes no difference to the working of the machine and little 
difference in the product. In the bodily machine, where the 
power is applied by both in the same place, the subcon- 
sciousness, it may be difficult to determine whether man- 
power or God-power is used, and if the machine feels the dif- 
ference and can distinguish, its testimony must be taken. 
The only test between these two which can be objectively 
made is in the permanency and thoroughness of the re- 
sults. 

That there is something more at stake than a simple choice 
of theory may be inferred from the following: 

‘““The genuineness of religion is thus indissolubly bound 
up with the question whether the prayerful consciousness be 
or be not deceitful. The conviction that some thing is gen- 
uinely transacted in this consciousness is the very core of re- 
ligion. As to what is transacted, great differences of opinion 
have prevailed. . . . Through prayer, religion insists, things 
which cannot be realized in any other manner come about: 
energy which but for prayer would be bound, is by prayer 
set free and operates in some part, be it objective or sub- 
jective, of the world of facts.” 

‘The fundamental religious point is that in prayer, spiritual 
energy, which otherwise would slumber, does become active, 
and spiritual work of some kind is effected really.” 

The conclusion is ‘‘that prayer or inner communion with 


PRAYER 4I5 


the spirit thereof—be that spirit ‘ God’ or ‘law’—is a process 
wherein work is really done, and spiritual energy flows in 
and produces effects, psychological or material, within the 
phenomenal world.” 

“The appearance is that in this phenomenon [prayerful 
communion] something ideal, which in one sense is part of 
ourselves and in another sense is not ourselves, actually ex- 
erts an influence, raises our centre of personal energy, and 
produces regenerative effects unattainable in other ways.” * 

Or take the following: 

“Prayer is the general name for that attitude of open 
and earnest expectancy. If we then ask to whom to pray, 
the answer (strangely enough) must be that ¢hat does not 
much matter. The prayer is not, indeed, a purely subjective 
thing;—it means a real increase in intensity of absorption of 
spiritual power or grace;—but we do not know enough of 
what takes place in the spiritual world to know how the 
prayer operates;—who is cognizant of it, or through what 
channel the grace is given.” ” 

All this may be true and yet, it may be argued, it may mean 
nothing more than that God has stored a certain amount of 
spiritual energy about us and by getting our minds in a cer- 
tain condition we open the gates which allow the energy to 
flow through the subconscious sluice-way. Even accepting 
this, it is not the same as saying that the answer to prayer is 
nothing more than a subconscious reaction, even when we 
know that God is the author of the subconsciousness, and has 
so arranged it in the process of creation through evolution that 
it shall give a certain reaction. Neither of these views, how- 
ever, seems likely to inspire the practice of prayer, or calcu- 


1W. James, The Varieties of Religious Experience, pp. 466, 477, 485, 
and 523. 

7F. W. H. Myers, in a private letter to a friend. Quoted by W. 
James, The Varieties of Religious Experience p. 467. 


416 PRAYER 


lated to bring about that attitude of communion and de- 
pendence in which we believe true prayer to consist. 

While it is true that ‘it is not as a Giver but as a Com- 
panion that God is chiefly valued and sought in prayer,” and 
that ‘‘God rather than His gifts is desired,” it is also true 
that there can be no companionship without giving some- 
thing on both sides. Petitional prayer is only a part of 
prayer, yet it 7s a part, nevertheless, and must be recognized 
as such. In this companionship God asks something of us, 
and is it not legitimate for us to ask something of Him? 
True, our petitions are limited by ‘‘ Thy will be done,” and it 
is not ours to demand, but if God’s love is what we are led to 
suppose it is, our prayers are the occasion of the blessing of 
which His love is the cause. An analysis of Jesus’ prayers * 
shows us that while communion was the main element, peti- 
tion was far from lacking. 

We have been endeavoring to confine our analysis so far to 
subjective results of prayer, but one may see how far-reach- 
ing this is in itself. And if we go further and admit that God 
works directly upon the subconsciousness of man, we include 
a far greater scope. If He influences men through the sub- 
consciousness, this influence is not confined to the person 
who offers the prayer, but may be extended to other or all men 
directly. On the other hand, through the influence of one 
person upon another indirectly our prayers may be answered, 
and if it shall be scientifically demonstrated that telepathy is 
something more than a theory and its laws are understood, 
influence not only between man and man but between God 
and man will be better comprehended and come more fully 
into the class of natural law. 

Take, for example, the demonstration of George Miiller, 


1See F. O. Beck, ‘“‘Prayer: A Study in its History and Psychology,” 
The American Journal of Religious Psychology and Education, II, 


p. 110 }. ; 


PRAYER 417 


of Bristol, England, who died in 1898. There is a tendency 
to make either too much or too little of his test. God, to him, 
was simply a business partner in the maintenance of his 
orphanage, and he seldom seemed to arise above this narrow 
view. What is the value of such a test? It is simply one 
test. Itis good as far as it goes, but the conditions were 
not just what a thoroughly scientific man would impose. It 
proves simply what it proves, that he was able to do certain 
things in a certain way; but it does prove that. However, 
it is only one case, and we are not privileged to generalize 
too broadly on one case. The tendency has been for some 
to say that it proved everything and for others to say that 
it proved nothing. If God works on men through the sub- 
consciousness, this case would come within our theory; 
for it was the minds of men which were influenced to give 
in providing this demonstration. 

We recognize the tendency on the part of men to see ob- 
jective answers when they do not exist, and no doubt a cer- 
tain reduction must be made on account of this mental atti- 
tude. Much has been written and many cases cited to prove 
the possibility of such answers.’ The line of demarkation 
which is drawn to my thinking is not between subjective and 
objective answers, but between personal and material an- 
swers, and this, as may be seen, on account of the theory 
that God works through and on the subconsciousness of 
man. Prayer for a change of weather would seem to me, 
therefore, outside of the legitimate sphere of petition, but 
prayer for the spiritual advancement of certain persons 
would be a legitimate petition to offer, but not so likely to 
be answered as prayer for the spiritual advancement of the 
person offering the prayer, for in the latter case, both con- 
sciousness and subconsciousness would be in perfect accord. 


1 See such books as W. W. Patton, Prayer and its Remarkable Answers; 
W. W. Kinsley, Science and Prayer. 


418 PRAYER 


Prayer for the sick would not be unlike that for spiritual ad- 
vancement. 

The philosophical and theological problems which sur- 
round the subject of prayer must remain untouched; and 
the special problems which the subconscious theory arouses 
cannot be discussed here, but I believe the position is philo- 
sophically defensible. 


CHAPTER XXIX 
SEXUALITY 


“Though Love use Reason for his physician, he admits him not for his 
counsellor.””—SHAKESPEARE. 


EVEN the most casual students of religion must have ob- 
served an apparently intimate connection between religious 
and sexual emotions, and not a few have read with amaze- 
ment the abnormal cults which have had the sexual element 
as a foundation for their denominational dissent. To those 
who have been reared to consider all sexual matters as par- 
ticularly sacred or sinful, according to their standard of use 
and abuse, erotic factors have seemed to have little in com- 
mon with religious worship. When any connection between 
the two has been discovered by investigators the temptation 
has proven very strong to overestimate the closeness of the 
relation. It is not unusual to read that the sexual emotions 
are the primary factors in religious development, and some 
very questionable arguments are used to substantiate this 
position. Undoubtedly there is a relation, and perhaps we 
can say that sexual emotions may have had some direct and 
certainly some indirect part in religious development. 

We are aware that if the torrent of feeling is choked in one 
direction, it is very apt to swell and burst a passage in an- 
other; and when we consider that love and religion are the 
two most violent emotions to which humanity is heir, it is 
not surprising that any disturbance of one should cause a 
corresponding excitement of the other. A disappointment 
in love may send a girl to the convent who was formerly with- 

419 


420 SEXUALITY 


out religious fervor, the excitement of religious revival may 
be followed by unbridled licentiousness. 

The evidence for this relation may be divided into three 
classes, viz., historical, pathological, and psychological. 
Early religious rites were largely sexual and orgiastic. Es- 
pecially is this true in phallicism, the worship of -he genera- 
tive principle.’ In this form of worship there is usually un- 
controlled debauchery, but sometimes the licentiousness 
takes the form of religious rite and duty. This phase is ex- 
hibited in some contemporary Russian Christian sects. Few 
if any of the early and primitive forms of religion are devoid 
of sexual elements: “‘The simplest functions of physiological 
life may be its [religion’s] ministers. Everyone who is at all 
acquainted with the Persian mystics knows how wine may 
be regarded as an instrument of religion. Indeed, in all 
countries and in all ages, some form of physical enlargement 
—singing, dancing, drinking, sexual excitement—has been 
intimately associated with worship.” ? 

It is, however, with the Christian religion that we are now 
concerned. A glance at a partial list of the sects which have 
had some abnormal sexual element at least attributed to them 
shows that the followers of Jesus have been far from free 
from this taint—Nicolaitans, Antitactes, Carpocrates, Cain- 
ites, Euchites or Eustathians or Messalians, Tauchelm, 
Brethren of the Free Spirit, Beghards and Beguines, Turlu- 
pins, Luciferians, Adamites, Men of Understanding, Liber- 
tines and Spirituels of Geneva, Flagellants or Chlistowschini, 
Skopsi, Shakers, Agapomone, Mucker, Oneida Community, 
Bible Communists, Perfectionists, Free Lovers, Spiritual- 
ists, etc., etc.° 

While yet the apostles wrote, certain irregularities had 


1 J. Moses, Pathological Aspects of Religions, pp. 22-30. 
°H. Ellis, The New Spirit, p. 232. 
* Compare T. G. Crippen, History of Christian Doctrine, pp. 268-313. 


SEXUALITY 421 


crept into the church. The agape, which was intended to 
promote the fraternal feeling existing between the brethren 
and sisters in the Lord and to minister to the poor, soon de- 
generated. The needy were neglected, the licentiousness 
characteristic of the heathen worship, with which the people 
were familiar, crept into the love feast, the holy kiss inspired 
unholy thoughts, and the general gathering was supplemented 
by secret meetings. The church, not on account of external 
criticism but for its own safety, soon abolished the agape, 
for, notwithstanding its social value, it could not be con- 
trolled. It was denounced by the Fathers and condemned 
by the Councils of Laodicea and of Carthage, but it lingered 
as a scandal and an offence until the Council of Trullo, at 
the end of the seventh century, when it was finally sup- 
pressed. The Commemoration of the Martyrs also degen- 
erated into scandalous dissipation until it became a stench. 
Gross breaches of chastity were frequent, and the annual fes- 
tivals were suppressed on account of the immorality they 
produced.* 

The lax conditions seemed to call for some radical meas- 
ures in the early church, and the eastern and pagan idea of 
the celibacy of the priest appealed to the church. The ne- 
cessity was the excuse. Any arguments which are or have 
been used to substantiate the doctrine were probably of sub- 
sequent origin. It is hardly necessary to remind ourselves of 
the failure of this step to stamp out the evil. The remedy 
seemed to aggravate the trouble rather than to relieve it, 
except that it revealed the church’s nominal disapproval of 
licentiousness. ‘The church in the middle centuries reeked 
with sexual abominations in every form, and it did not al- 
ways, or even frequently, receive the censure which it de- 
served, but the condition was winked at by those in authority, 
who, themselves, were not free from scandal. 

1W. E. H. Lecky, History of European Morals, Il, p. 150. 


422 SEXUALITY 


In later years, some whom Protestants have been led to 
look upon with much favor were carried to one extreme or the 
other. Bunyan, thankful he is shy of women, says, ‘‘Some, 
indeed, have urged the Holy Kiss; but then I have asked 
why they make balks? Why did they salute the most hand- 
some and let the ill-favored go?”?* We notice further that 
Bunyan’s pilgrim would not even take his wife with him on 
the celestial journey. On the other hand, Erasmus writes 
from England while on a visit there, ‘“To mention but a 
single attraction, the English girls are divinely pretty; soft, 
pleasant, gentle, and charming as the muses. They have one 
custom which cannot be too much admired. When you go 
anywhere on a visit the girls all kiss you. They kiss you when 
you arrive. They kiss you when you go away, and they kiss 
you again when you return. Go where you will it is all 
kisses; and my dear Faustus, if you had once tasted how 
soft and fragrant those lips are, you would wish to spend your 
life -here./ic 

In our own times the connection between religious and 
sexual phenomena is largely confined to revivals and will be 
mentioned later. In fact, much of the historical argument 
must be deferred until we take up specific cases in dealing 
with different phases of the subject. 

The argument from pathology rests upon the testimony of 
many alienists to the effect that in cases of insanity where re- 
ligious delusions predominate the disturbance usually has a 
sexual origin. On this point there appears to be a general 
agreement. Notice some quotations from eminent writers. 

“Tt has been noticed that among the morbid organic con- 
ditions which accompany the show of excessive piety and 
religious rapture in the insane, none are so frequent as dis- 
orders of the sexual organism. Conversely, the frenzies of 


1 J. Bunyan, Grace Abounding, p. 316. 
?J. A. Froude, Erasmus, p. 42. 


SEXUALITY 423 


religious revivals have not unfrequently ended in gross prof- 
ligacy. The encouragement of celibacy by the fervent leaders 
of most creeds, utilizes in an unconscious way the morbid 
connection between an over-restraint of the sexual desires 
and impulse toward extreme devotion.” * 

“Love and Religion are closely related, and when the 
sexual desire, connected with love, is considered sinful, it is 
readily understood why religious insanity of love has a sexual 
origin, even though the sick cannot be accused of sinfulness.”’ ” 

“The history of female insanity, as appears from cases 
given by Havelock Ellis, shows how, when the balance of 
the religious emotions is upset, the latent, subconscious 
physical element may temporarily reassert itself and domi- 
nate the spiritualized sexuality.” ° 

“Ecstasy, as we see in cases of acute mental disease, is 
probably always connected with sexual excitement, if not 
with sexual depravity. The same association is constantly 
seen in less extreme cases, and one of the commonest features 
in the conversation of an acutely maniacal woman is the 
intermingling of erotic and religious ideas.” * 

‘“‘T venture to express my conviction that we should rarely 
err if, in a case of religious melancholy, we assume the sexual 
apparatus to be implicated.” ° 

‘All through the history of insanity the student has occa- 
sion to observe this close alliance of sexual and religious 
ideas; an alliance which may be partly accounted for be- 
cause of the prominence which sexual themes have in most 
creeds, as illustrated in ancient times by the phallus worship 
of the Egyptians; the ceremonies of the Friga Cultus of the 

1F. Galton, Inquiries into the Human Faculty, p. 66 f. 

2A. Nystrom, The Natural Laws of Sexual Life, p. 174. 

3H. Northcote, Christianity and Sex Problems, p. 142. 

*C. Norman, Tuke’s Dictionary of Psychological Medicine. 


5 Schroder van der Kolk, quoted by H. Ellis, Studies in the Psychology 
of Sex, II, p. 233. 


424 SEXUALITY 


Saxons; the frequent and detailed references to sexual top- 
ics in the Koran and several other books of the kind, and 
which is further illustrated in the performances which, to 
come down to a modern period, characterize the religious 
revival and camp meeting, as they tinctured their medieval 
model, the Miinster Anabaptist movement.” * 

I have quoted sufficient on this point to show the almost 
universal agreement among neurologists. I am not sure, 
however, that the argument, while possessing some po- 
tency, has not been exaggerated. The derangement of mind 
is not always as trustworthy as the normal condition for a 
foundation for reasonable conclusions. Why is it that an 
alcoholic paranoiac who is married presents as a symptom of 
his condition, almost without exception, a suspicion of the 
infidelity of hisspouse? Why is it that the unmarried alcoholic 
usually has sexual or religious delusions? If the connection 
between religion and sex is no more definitely indicated in 
insanity than the relation between alcohol and sex in this 
other form of insanity, the argument loses its force. Not as 
a proof in itself, though, but as a series in the chain of proof, 
this argument has its value. 

There might be added to the pathological argument the 
fact that many religious geniuses have been sexually abnor- 
mal. Many eminent thinkers have been without sexual de- 
sire, and some have been so enraptured with the heavenly 
state that they have been disqualified for married life; Joan 
of Arc never menstruated. 

What I have called the psychological argument has two 
phases to present: the connection between human and di- 
vine love, as having a common emotional basis; and the 
relation between sexuality and religious awakening during 
adolescence. Many devout men and women have been sen- 


*R. C. Spitzka, Insanity, p. 39. See also R. von Krafft-Ebing, 
Psychopathia Sexualis, pp. 8 and ro. 


SEXUALITY 428 


sitive to carnal pleasures. From a psychological standpoint 
the wonder is, not that so many fall, but that so few give way 
to sexual pressure. Much ado is made if a clergyman or 
prominent religious worker is guilty of sexual sin, and cor- 
rectly, too; but in not a few cases the alienist might furnish us 
with a basis, not only for pity, but for a partial (at least) jus- 
tification. The very nervous constitution which is necessary 
for excessive devoutness, in different female members of a 
congregation, may make sexual desire more active and at 
the same time lessen the power of self-control. 

In cases where religious leaders fall, the principals are 
seldom or never of the lewd, coarse type, but, to the amaze- 
ment of those who do not realize this relationship, the more 
refined, delicate, neurotic, and devout. The word “‘hypocrite” 
so freely used at such times may be entirely incorrect, for the 
fallen ones may well be the most devout and really religious 
members of a congregation, who are, in their very devoutness, 
emotionally unbalanced, but who give no other token of this 
abnormality than sexual indulgence. When we know our- 
selves only in part we appear to be a mass of entanglements 
and confusion. 

“Human love is the root from which all other love springs. 
And it is instructive to trace the behavior of the different 
forms of the religious spirit to those human passions with 
which it is so mysteriously bound up. The fire of heavenly 
love passes back very easily into an earthly flame. There is 
scarcely anything more common than to find the natural 
impulse of ordinary affection tricking itself out in the garb of 
religion. And it is not easy to say how far the custom of 
celibacy may not have arisen among the clergy in order to 
avoid an almost inevitable confusion between two overlap- 
ping groups of emotions.” * 

No one will deny that love is an important element in re- 

1F, Granger, The Soul of a Christian, p. 186. 


426 SEXUALITY 


ligion, having both man and God as the objects. It seems 
highly probable that human love has its root in the sexual 
instinct. Indirectly, then, divine love must have sprung from 
the same source.’ If this is true, we can the more easily trace 
the connection between sexuality and religion, and under- 
stand why religious excitement, stirring as it does the primi- 
tive elements in our being, should degenerate into licentious- 
ness. Professor Ladd objects to this in the following words: 

“Tt is not, as several recent writers have endeavored to 
show, the sexual emotion of love which either becomes a 
source of religion or which develops into a truly religious 
love. The close connection of sexual conceptions with the 
mysteries of faith in a great number of religions, and indeed 
in all religions at a certain stage of their development, and 
the relation of sexual and semi-religious emotions as recip- 
rocal stimuli of certain mental attitudes toward certain of the 
deities cannot, indeed, be denied. It may also be said, of 
course, in a general way, that without the sexual emotions 
and relations no social life could arise or be sustained among 
human beings under existing conditions. From this it fol- 
lows that, without its relations to the social life and social 
development of humanity, religion could not have arisen and 
developed into human history. But to say these things is to 
say both something less and something more than is neces- 
sary to establish a claim for the sexual emotions to be an in-. 
dependent source of religion; or even to establish a parity 
of kind and a partnership in activity between these emotions 
and the more definitely religious feelings.” ” 

Whatever our theory of origin may be, the truth of which 
is hidden in the obscurity of antiquity, the fact of the rela- 
tionship and connection is held by both parties, and this is 


*See R. von Kraffit-Ebing, Psychopathia Sexualis, p. 9 f., regarding 
the relation of religious and sexual love. 
*G. T. Ladd, Philosophy of Religion, I, p. 292 f. 


SEXUALITY 427 


the main point, after all. Love is not different in quality 
according to its object, and love for God and man may indeed 
become confused if we consider the truth of what Ritschl says, 
“Tt is one of the conditions of religious faith that what it con- 
tains in thought should be represented as present.’ Only to 
those who represent God as an intellectual ideal rather than 
as a living person does it seem impossible to realize Him as 
an object of love in the same sense as human beings. Myers 
calls attention to another factor which adds to the signifi- 
cance of this relationship when he says, “‘ That instinct for 
union with beauty which manifests itself most obviously in 
sexual passion may be exalted into a symbolic introduction 
into a sacred and spiritual world.” * 

The contemporaneous development or crisis of the sexual 
and religious life in adolescence has been noted by many 
recent writers, and seems to add to the proof of a relation- 
ship. It does not, though, as some have maintained, prove 
that the religious upheaval at this period is due to sexual 
changes any more than it proves the opposite cause and 
effect. Starbuck points out this relationship with some de- 
tail. He says: 

“We shall see later that at the present stage in evolution 
the reproductive instinct has a negative rather than a positive 
significance as a factor in religion; but in its biological im- 
port it conditions, in a certain sense, the great awakening on 
the physiological, psychical, and spiritual side which comes 
in adolescence. . . . Although this connection is a remote 
one, and the religious instinct in its higher development is 
dependent upon other conditions and has other sources, 
nevertheless, the various phenomena—accession to puberty, 
rapid physical development, transformations in mental life, 
and spontaneous religious awakening—are so closely inter- 


1F. W. H. Myers, Human Personality and its Survival of Bodily 
Death, I, p. 177. 


428 SEXUALITY 


woven that we may say with certainty that they have had in 
evolutionary development a direct and intimate relation. 
. . . Not infrequently the struggle is between the tendency 
of the new life to express itself, on the one hand, in higher 
ideational centres, and, on the other hand, to centralize in the 
reproductive instinct; consequently, storm and stress is the 
accompaniment of effort to control passion. ‘The struggle be- 
comes so vital and far-reaching as to involve the whole relig- 
ious nature, and sometimes takes a definitely religious turn.” * 

Other authorities concur: “Beyond a question of doubt, 
man becomes religiously enthused most frequently either 
early in life when pubescence is, or is about to be estab- 
lished, or later in life when sexual desire has become either 
entirely extinct or very much abated. . . . Of all insanities 
of the pubescent state, erotomania and religious mania are 
the most frequent and the most pronounced. Sometimes they 
go hand in hand, the most inordinate sensuality being coup- 
led with abnormal religious zeal.” ” | 

“Tt is no accidental synchronism of unrelated events that 
the age of religion and that of sexual maturity coincide, any 
more than that senescence has its own type of religiosity. Nor 
is religion degraded by the recognition of this intimate rela- 
tionship, save to those who either think vilely about sex or 
who lack insight into its real psychic nature and so fail to 
realize how indissoluble is the bond that God and nature 
have wrought between religion and love.” ° 

Starbuck further points out * that about one-third of the 


1E. D. Starbuck, The Psychology of Religion, pp. 147, 207, 219, and 
220. 

2 Wier, ‘Religion and Lust,” quoted by J. Moses, Pathological As- 
pects, etc., p. 20. 

*G.S. Hall, Adolescence, II, p. 292. ‘The same author, pp. 295-301, 
draws a number of parallelisms between religion and love which are 
carried to rather fanciful limits in some instances. 

*E. D. Starbuck, The Psychology of Religion, pp. 70 and 206. 


SEXUALITY 429 


males who answered his questionnaire said that sexual temp- 
tations were the chief temptations of youth, and that they 
usually accompany spontaneous awakenings. He further 
takes notice of the fact that in nearly all instances the phe- — 
nomena during conviction are remarkably like those which 
follow the sexual evil. If this is true, the reverse is also to be 
considered; religious conversion not infrequently cures sex- 
ual temptation in a single hour, so that it is no longer to be 
reckoned as a danger by those habitually addicted.’ 

Professor Ladd comes forward as an opponent to the over 
emphasis which has been given to the connection between the 
sexual and religious factors in adolescence. He points out 
‘a defect if not a fallacy” in Starbuck’s conclusion “‘that the 
principal factor in religious conversion is the sexual changes 
which accompany the period of adolescence.”’ In detail he 
shows, from Starbuck’s own graphic representations, that the 
curve of conversion does not agree with the physiological and 
sexual curve.” He proceeds further to disagree with Star- 
buck ‘‘when it is regarded as a safe conclusion from an in- 
ductive study that ‘in a certain sense the religious life is an 
irradiation of the reproductive instinct’ (p. 401); and even 
that the sexual life ‘seems to have originally given the psychic 
impulse which called out the latent possibilities of the de- 
velopment’ of religion, although it did not furnish the ‘raw 
material out of which religion was constructed’ (p. 402).”’ ° 

There is little doubt that, in common with the investiga- 
tion of all new subjects, the importance of the sexual changes 
to religious development has been exaggerated, yet a residue 
of truth remains. ‘There is a relationship which, taken in 

1 See the case of Colonel Gardner reported in W. James, The Varieties 
of Religious Experience, p. 269. The cure is probably not unlike that 
of alcoholism, an account of which may be seen in my Psychology of 
Alcoholism, chap. X. 


2G. T. Ladd, Philosophy of Religion, I, p. 276 note. 
3G. T. Ladd, Philosophy of Religion, I, p. 292 note. 


430 SEXUALITY 


connection with the other facts which alone are not conclu- 
sive, makes a strong case for the thesis that religion and sex- 
uality are vitally related. We must be on our guard, how- 
ever, against thinking that the sexual development is the 
cause and the religious growth is the result. There is no 
proof of this. They appear contemporaneously. 

We must further refrain, especially with the young, from 
allowing our religious methods to be of such a character that 
they will minister to sexual excitement, and degrade those 
whom we are trying to uplift. Davenport raises a protest 
against some of our hymnology, and gives an example of a 
hymn sung at a gathering of thousands of young people be- 
tween the ages of fourteen and twenty-five. This hymn be- 
came intensely popular at this camp-meeting and was heard 
everywhere. Whatever advantage might have accrued to the 
musical part of the programme was probably more than 
counterbalanced by the pernicious moral influence. The 
following is one stanza of the hymn: 


‘Blessed lily of the valley—oh, how fair is He! 

He is mine, I am His. 
Sweeter than the angel’s music is His voice to me, 

He is mine, I am His. 
Where the lilies fair are blooming by the waters calm, 
There He leads me and upholds me by His strong right arm. 
All the air is love around me—I can feel no harm— 

He is mine, I am His.” * 


It seems clear that the most serious source of religious 
difficulty for male adolescents is sexual irritability, and those 
who have care of youths should see that the body is robust 
and the thoughts clean and wholesome, to insure both sexual 
and religious development in the best way. 

In addition to the objections raised by Professor Ladd and 
cited above, we have even stronger protests from Professor 

1F. M. Davenport, Primitive Traits in Religious Revivals, p. 291 }. 


SEXUALITY 431 


James against the contention of the close relationship be- 
tween sexuality and religion. These two prominent psy- 
chologists are the strongest opponents to the theory, or the 
interpretation of the facts, but their eminence should give the 
opposition not a little weight. Professor James says: 

‘““A more fully developed example of the same kind of rea- 
soning is the fashion, quite common nowadays among certain 
writers, of criticising the religious emotions by showing a 
connection between them and the sexual life. Conversion is 
a crisis of puberty and adolescence. The maceration of saints, 
and the devotion of missionaries, are only instances of the 
parental instinct of self-sacrifice gone astray. For the hys- 
terical nun, starving for natural life, Christ is but an imaginary 
substitute for a more earthly object of affection. And the 
like. As with many ideas that float in the air of one’s time, 
this notion shrinks from dogmatic general statement and ex- 
presses itself only partially and by innuendo. It seems to me 
that few conceptions are less instructive than this reinter- 
pretation of religion as perverted sexuality. It reminds me, 
so cruelly is it often employed, of the famous Catholic taunt, 
that the reformation may be best understood by remembering 
that its fons et origo was Luther’s wish to marry a nun;—the 
effects are infinitely wider than the alleged causes, and for 
the most part opposite in nature. It is true that in the vast 
collection of religious phenomena, some are undisguisedly 
amatory—e. g., sex-deities and obscene rites in polytheism, 
and ecstatic feelings of union with the Savior in a few Chris- 
tian mystics. But then why not equally call religion an aber- 
ration of the digestive function, and prove one’s point by the 
worship of Bacchus and Ceres, or by the ecstatic feelings of 
some of the saints about the Eucharist? . .. In fact, one 
might almost as well interpret religion as a perversion of the 
respiratory function. . . . One might then as well set up the 
thesis that the interest in mechanics, physics, chemistry, logic, 


432 SEXUALITY 


philosophy, and sociology, which spring up during adolescent 
years along with that in poetry and religion, is also a perver- 
sion of the sexual instinct—but that would be too absurd. 
Moreover, if the argument from synchrony is to decide, what 
is to be done with the fact that the religious age par excellence 
would seem to be old age, when the uproar of the sexual life is 
past? The plain truth is that to interpret religion one must 
in the end look at the immediate content of the religious con- 
sciousness. The moment one does this, one sees how wholly 
disconnected it is in the main from the content of the sexual 
consciousness. Everything about the two things differs, 
objects, moods, faculties concerned, and acts impelled to. 
Any general assimilation is simply impossible: what we find 
most often is complete hostility and contrast. If now the de- 
fenders of the sex theory say that this makes no difference to 
their thesis; that without the chemical contributions which 
the sex organs make to the blood the brain would not be 
nourished so as to carry on religious activities, this final 
proposition may be true or not true; but at any rate, it has 
become profoundly uninstructive: we can deduce no conse- 
quences from it which help us to interpret religion’s meaning 
or value. In this sense the religious life depends just as much 
upon the spleen, the pancreas, the kidneys as on the sexual 
apparatus, and the whole theory has lost its point in evapo- 
rating into a vague general assertion of the dependence, 
somehow, of the mind upon the body.” ! 

I agree with Professor James in what I have already said 
concerning the fallacy of making sexuality the cause and re- 
ligion the effect, but nevertheless it seems that he has greatly 
minimized the relationship, which the facts appear to prove. 

Religious devoutness shows itself by sexual abnormality in 
two extremes, excess and continence. Why some devotees are 
led into sexual indulgence and others into abstinence is a 

*W. James, The Varieties of Religious Experience, pp. 10-12. 


SEXUALITY 433 


question which can only be answered by an appeal to the 
psychology of the individual and the forces which are brought 
to bear upon his mind. The arguments supporting the 
course chosen are subsequent to the disposition to follow in 
a certain way, and it is the disposition rather than the reason- 
ing that is the prime point in the explanation. To appreciate 
in any way the great numbers which have followed either one 
course or the other, we must now take up the subject from 
these two standpoints, and give an epitome of the way in 
which Christianity has been led from the natural and Chris- 
tian mean. 

Sexual excess has not always manifested itself in the same 
way, but as the result of religious revivals spontaneous licen- 
tiousness has broken out, while in the form of “‘spiritual mar- 
riage”? a more deliberate and apparently reasonable course 
has been taken. 

Religious revivals, strange as it may seem, far from rooting 
out sexual desires, seem to stimulate them at times. This 
has been especially true of at least two of the great revivals in 
America, and the licentiousness prevalent at camp-meetings 
in later years has become a byword. Concerning the Ken- 
tucky revival of 1800, many charges of sexual liberty have 
been made and undoubtedly some exaggerations have crept 
into the accounts of those who have written in an antagonistic 
manner. We are bound in justice to say, however, that some 
of the charges were too true and they were well recognized by 
some of the wiser leaders at the time, who made plans for a 
night patrol and frequent examination of different parts of 
the camp. 

The revival of 1832 left even worse results in its train, for 
while there was licentiousness in Kentucky, it was of a more 
transient character and did not interfere with domestic rela- 
tions to nearly the same extent that the later revival did. In 
the “‘burnt district” (so called on account of the revival 


434 SEXUALITY 


flame which had continuously swept this community for 
years) of New York State, in the counties of Madison and 
Oneida, “spiritual marriages” and pernicious sexual in- 
dulgence followed, until families were broken up, children 
were deserted, and in some cases, the parentage of children 
was in doubt, while in other families the children of the 
“spiritual”? husband would assume the name of and be du- 
tifully cared for by the lawful husband. 

“If the facts were not before us, some of these unions 
would appear incredible. These were what the French 
would call ménages a trois. The lawful husband and the 
spiritual one lived under the same roof, in some cases with 
the one wife, who denied all conjugal rights to the husband 
in law, and accorded them freely to the husband in spirit; 
and remarkable instances are furnished of the husbands sub- 
mitting to such a state of things as being in accordance with 
the Divine will. And such examples of degradation, ac- 
cording to the annals of the time, do not appear to have been 
Taree 

While these are the most flagrant examples, it appears that 
in not a few of the cases in which the doctrine of “spiritual 
marriage’? was renewed, the impetus came from some re- 
vival. It may further be stated, I think, that the denomina- 
tions which suffer most from the fall of clergy and members 
of the church by sexual dissipation are those which partici- 
pate most frequently in revival services of a more emotional 
character. 

“The kind of spiritual excitement which a super-emotional 
revival generates is likely to be more harmful than helpful to 
the self-control of the individual as exhibited in both his 
sexual and spiritual activities. The over-stimulation of re- 
ligious sentiment among the young frequently arouses the 


1A. S. Rhodes, “Convulsive Religion,” Appleton’s Journal, XIV, 
Pp. 75!- 


SEXUALITY 435 


human love passion much more fiercely than the divine. It 
is natural that it should be so from what we know of adoles- 
cent psychology and from what we know of the inhibitive 
effect of religious excitement upon the higher centres of 
control.” ? 

Those who are carried away by the excitement of religious 
revivals usually justify their licentiousness by the claim that 
they are perfect and therefore cannot sin, regardless of their 
conduct; as the followers of Amalric many years ago claimed 
that ‘““he who lives in love can do no wrong.” Any persons 
or sects which present such a doctrine are usually suspected, 
and probably justly, of the licentious conduct which results 
from such teaching. Some Russian Christian sects to-day, 
after hysterical and ecstatic dances, shouts, and actions, aban- 
don themselves to unbridled licentiousness, claiming that the 
presence of the Holy Spirit sanctifies their acts.” This license 
cannot be morally justified and the excuse is never acceptable 
to those outside the esoteric circle, however much the elect 
may try to make themselves believe it. 

‘Spiritual marriage” rests upon an altogether different 
basis. In early days and in the form where the principals 
are the individual and deity, some mystical interpretation of 
figurative language in scripture formed the foundation for 
the doctrine. The Song of Solomon has ever been a favorite 
book for such mystics, and the tendency of Roman Catholic 
mysticism has ever been to think of the individual rather than 
the church as the bride of Christ.’ 

“The notion of a spiritual marriage between God and the 
soul seems to have come from the Greek Mysteries, through 
the Alexandrian Jews and Gnostics. . . . And among the 


1F. M. Davenport, Primitive Traits in Religious Revivals, pp. 81 
and 292. 

2 J. Moses, Pathological Aspects of Religions, p. 16. 

* For much that follows regarding this form of ‘spiritual marriage,” 
see W. R. Inge, Christian Mysticism, Appendix D. 


436 SEXUALITY 


Jews of the first century there existed a system of Mysteries, 
probably copied from Eleusis. They had their greater and 
lesser Mysteries, and we hear that among their secret doc- 
trines was ‘marriage with God.’”” Harnack says, ‘‘We can 
point to very few Greek Fathers in whom the figure [spiritual 
marriage] does not occur.” 

There is little doubt that the enforced celibacy and vir- 
ginity of monks and nuns led them, consciously or uncon- 
sciously, to transfer their affection to God, Jesus, or the Vir- 
gin Mary, and the sexual impulse, unable to express itself 
naturally, found an outlet thereby. Fénelon said, that the 
contemplative desired ‘‘une simple présence de Dieu pure- 
ment amoureuse.” Ribet classified the experiences of the 
medizval saints as follows: 1. “Divine Touches” which 
Scaramelli defines as ‘‘real but purely spiritual sensations, by 
which the soul feels the intimate presence of God, and tastes 
Him with great delight.” 2. ‘The Wound of Love” which 
was not always purely spiritual. A post-mortem examination 
showed that St. Teresa had undergone a miraculous “trans- 
verberation of the heart,” “et pourtant elle survécut prés de 
vingt ans a cette blessure mortelle.” 3. Catherine of Sienna 
was betrothed to Christ with a ring, which remained always 
on her finger, though visible only to her. St. Gertrude’s ex- 
periences furnish a culmination. 

While both male and female mystics show amorous incli- 
nations towards Divinity, in this, as might be expected, the 
female experience and expression are more intense. Among 
the males, ‘‘The Imitation of Christ”? abounds in language 
which might easily be adapted to sexual love; Ruysbroek’s 
principal work was on “‘spiritual nuptials”’; and Suso’s lov- 
ing nature, like Augustine’s, needed an object of affection. 
Of Suso it was said:. 

“His imagination concentrated itself upon the eternal 
Wisdom, personified in the Book of Proverbs in female form 


SEXUALITY 437 


as a loving mistress, and the thought often came to him, 
‘Truly thou shouldst make trial of thy fortune, whether this 
high mistress, of whom thou hast heard so much, will become 
thy love; for in truth thy wild young heart will not remain 
without a love.’ Then in a vision he saw her, radiant in form, 
rich in wisdom, and overflowing with love; it is she who 
touches the summit of the heavens, and the depths of the 
abyss, who spreads herself from end to end, mightily and 
sweetly disposing all things. And she drew nigh to him lov- 
ingly, and said to him sweetly, ‘My son, give me thy heart.’”’ 
There were other amorous experiences in which the eternal 
wisdom and his soul took part. 

Among the female mystics who have expressed sensual 
pleasure in communion with God are Mme. Guyon, Sceur 
Jeanne des Anges, St. Catherine of Sienna, Juliana of Nor- 
wich, Marie de I’Incarnation, St. Teresa, and St. Gertrude. 
A few examples of their experiences will follow. Juliana 
ardently desired to have a bodily sight of her Lord upon the 
cross “like other that were Christ’s lovers.” She repeatedly 
reiterated the words which she said the Lord said unto 
her, “I love thee and thou lovest Me, and our love shall 
never be disparted in two.” ” Of St. Teresa it is said that 
“her idea of religion seems to have been that of an end- 
less amatory flirtation . . . between the devotee and the 
deity.” * St. Gertrude’s experiences are still more to the 
point. 

“Suffering from a headache, she sought, for the glory of 
God, to relieve herself by holding certain odoriferous sub- 
stances in her mouth; when the Lord appeared to her to lean 
over towards her lovingly, and to find comfort Himself in 
these odors. After having gently breathed them in, He arose, 


1W. R. Inge, Christian Mysticism, p. 174. 
?W. R. Inge, Christian Mysticism, pp. 201 and 209. 
3 W. James, The Varieties of Religious Experience, p. 347 }. 


438 SEXUALITY 


and said with a gratified air to the Saints, as if contented with 
what He had done: ‘See the new present which My be- 
trothed has given Me!’ 

“One day, at chapel, she heard supernaturally sung the 
words, ‘Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus.’ The Son of God lean- 
ing toward her like a sweet lover, and giving to her soul the 
softest kiss, said to her at the second Sanctus: ‘In this Sanc- 
tus addressed to my person, receive with this kiss all the 
sanctity of my divinity and of my humanity, and let it be to 
thee a sufficient preparation for approaching the communion 
table.’ And the next following Sunday while she was thank- 
ing God for this favor, behold the Son of God, more beaute- 
ous than thousands of angels, takes her in His arms as if He 
were proud of her, and presents her to God the Father, in 
that perfection of sanctity with which He had dowered her.” * 

I close these examples with a quotation concerning Marie 
de I’Incarnation. 

‘She heard, in a trance, a miraculous voice. It was that 
of Christ promising to become her spouse. Months and 
years passed full of troubled hopes and fears, when again the 
voice sounded in her ear, with assurance that the promise 
was fulfilled, and that she was indeed his bride. Now, en- 
sued phenomena which are not infrequent among Roman 
Catholic female devotees when unmarried, or married un- 
happily, and which have their source in the necessities of 
woman’s nature. To her excited thought, her divine spouse 
became a living presence; and her language to him, as re- 
corded by herself, is of intense passion. She went to prayer, 
agitated and tremulous, as if to a meeting with an earthly 
lover. ‘Oh, my love!’ she exclaimed, ‘When shall I embrace 
your Have you no pity on the torments that I suffer? Alas! 
Alas! My love! My beauty! My life! Instead of healing 


' Révélations de Sainte Gertrude, I, pp. 44 and 186, quoted by W. 
James, The Varieties of Religious Experience, pp. 345 }. 


SEXUALITY 439 


my pain you take pleasure in it. Come let me embrace you; 
and die in your sacred arms!’” * 

The other form of “spiritual marriage” was of a much 
more carnal nature. It has usually existed in the Christian 
church, but there seems to have been a spontaneous revival 
of this doctrine in the early part of the last century. There is 
evidence of immorality among the Gnostics and Manicheans 
of the first centuries, and down through the Amalricians, 
Brethren of the Free Spirit, and other sects, so that the doc- 
trine seems never to have been extinct. 

Among those who believe in ‘‘spiritual marriage,” three 
reasons are given for their action. The first is that which we 
have found to be the excuse of those who indulge in premis- 
cuous sexual intercourse after revivals, viz., that they have 
become perfect and cannot sin. In the exalted atmosphere 
of the perfect Christian society, relationships become possible 
that would be scandalous among persons of less regular lives. 
The Brethren of the Free Spirit thought they could not sin 
and that their passions were no longer snares but sanctified 
and heavenly powers. They did not marry, but one of their 
rewards for leading a life of grace and purity was the privilege 
of tendering to each other a Seraphic Kiss; each brother 
having the right to give his sister a chaste salute. In this 
they were followed later by the Ebelians. 

The second reason is the doctrine of affinities. ‘To true 
mates marriage is not for the time only, but for the time to 
come. ... Jo their eyes wedlock is a covenant of soul with 
soul, made for all worlds in which there is conscious life; 
for the heavens above no less than for the earth below.” ? 
To prevent the awful calamity of an entrance into heaven 


1F, Parkman, The Jesuits of America, p. 175. 

2W. H. Dixon, Spiritual Wives, I, p. 92 7. I am indebted to this 
work for much of my material on this subject, and the reader is referred 
to it if he wishes to pursue a plenary treatment. 


440 SEXUALITY 


with a wrong mate each one must seek his affinity, and, 
strange to say, the ideas often changed, so that one had to try 
many mates before getting the right one, if this latter was 
ever accomplished. Swedenborg maintained that ‘without 
perfect marriage, there is no perfect rest for either man or 
woman, even in heaven; nothing but a striving of the soul 
after distant joys; joys which can never be attained, except 
by the happy blending of two souls in one everlasting cove- 
nant of love.” 

Rev. John H. Noyes, founder of the Bible Communists of 
Oneida Creek, writes in a letter to Mr. Dixon: “Religious 
love is a very near neighbor to sexual love, and they always 
get mixed in the intimacies and social excitements of Reviv- 
als. The next thing a man wants, after he has found the sal- 
vation of his soul, is to find his Eve and his Paradise. Hence 
these wild experiments and terrible disasters.” Very few, 
however, found an Eden at home, or an Eve in his lawful wife. 
All earthly ties, they thought, should be left behind by the 
saved ones, and the things of heaven should be the chief bond 
between them. 

During a Perfectionist meeting at Manlius, N. Y., Erasmus 
Stone related a vision which he had experienced of a mighty 
host of men and women in heaven, flying hither and thither 
in great anxiety seeking their true mates. So great was the 
effect of the recital of this vision that the leaders of the 
meeting, Revs. Sheldon, Stone, and Rider, all sought and 
found affinities. Shortly afterwards they left these and 
found others. At first such unions were to be of a purely 
spiritual character, but, of course, in the end they became 
sexual; the spiritual union was found to be incomplete, and 
it assumed the ordinary character of that which exists be- 
tween man and woman who live together in close intimacy. 

The third argument is biblical, and 1 Cor. g : 5 is the pas- 
sage quoted and used as a warrant for the doctrine. The 


~~ 


SEXUALITY 441 


Pauline church of Massachusetts and New York claimed 
that the woman referred to in this passage was a ‘“‘spiritual 
wife” of St. Paul’s, and hence to follow the great apostle this 
action is allowable and praiseworthy. Among many who 
espouse this doctrine the Song of Solomon is the favorite 
book. 

In regard to the revival of this doctrine in the early part of 
last century, I can do no better than to quote the following: 

“Three of the most singular movements in the churches of 
our generation [the edition from which I quote was printed in 
1868] seem to have been connected, more or less closely, with 
the state of mind produced by revivals; one in Germany, one 
in England, and one in the United States; movements which 
resulted, among other things, in the establishment of three 
singular societies—the congregation of Pietists, vulgarly called 
the Mucker, at Kénigsberg, the brotherhood of Princeites at 
Spaxton, and the Bible Communists at Oneida Creek. 

“These three movements, which have a great deal in com- 
mon, began without concert, in distant parts of the world, 
under separate church rules, and in widely different social 
circumstances. ‘The first movement was in Ost Preussen; 
the second in England; the third, the most important, in 
Massachusetts and New York. They had these chief things 
in common: they began in colleges, they affected the form of 
family life, and they were carried on by clergymen; each 
movement in a place of learning and of theological study; 
that in Germany at Luther-Kirch of Ké6nigsberg, that in 
England at St. David’s College, that in the United States at 
Yale College. These-movements began to attract public 
notice much about the same time; for Archdeacon Ebel, the 
chief founder of Muckerism, announced the year 1836 as the 
opening year of the personal reign of Christ; in that year the 
Rev. Henry James Prince became a student of divinity, 
founded the order of Lampeter Brethren, and received his 


442 SEXUALITY 


pretended gift of the Holy, Ghost; and Father Noyes pub- 
lished the famous paper known as the Battle Axe Letter. 
These three divines, one Lutheran, one Anglican, one Con- 
gregational, began their work in perfect ignorance of each 
OLVER inns 

“Fach movement was regarded by its votaries as the 
most perfect fruit of the revival spirit. . . . These fruits of 
the revival seem to have been equally received by the count- 
ess who knelt at the feet of Ebel in Ost Preussen, by the 
dowagers and country gentlemen who swelled the ranks of 
Prince in Sussex and Somerset, by the craftsmen who fol- 
lowed Noyes and Sheldon in Massachusetts and New York. 
They who had been called by the Lamb, no longer dwelt on 
earth, subject to its laws and canons; they were no longer 
amenable to pain, disease, and death. They had risen into 
a sphere of gospel liberty and gospel light. A new earth and 
a new heaven had been ereated round them, in which they 
lived and moved by anew law. To some of them the decrees 
of courts and councils were as nothing; property was noth- 
ing, Marriage was nothing—mere rags and shreds of a world 
that had passed away. To all of them a new light had been 
given on the subject of spirit-brides; the higher relation of 
woman to man in thenew kingdom of heaven.” * 

So much for the spontaneous revival in Germany, Eng- 
land, and America, but what further can be said of the doc- 
trine and its progress? In Europe it was hindered by the 
stern hand of the state, and its appearance was more often 
mixed with philosophy and with theology than with practice. 

“The doctrine of Natural Mates and Spiritual Love be- 
tween the sexes is an old Gothic doctrine; one which pub- 
lished itself in the great Fraternity of the Free Spirit; which 
startled mankind in the conduct of John of Leyden; which 
appeared in the sermons and practice of Ann Lee; which 

1W. H. Dixon, Spiritual Wives, I, pp. 84-87. 


SEXUALITY 443 


took a special form in the speculations of Emmanuel Sweden- 
borg; which found voice in the artistic work of Wolfgang von 
Goéthe. This doctrine was known in Augsburg and Leyden, 
in Manchester and Stockholm, in Frankfort and Weimar, 
long before it was heard of in New Haven and New York.” 

“This tradition [of the superior rights and felicities con- 
ferred by a marriage of souls] has proved its existence in 
many ways; sometimes cropping out in theory, sometimes in 
practice; here breaking out into license with Hans Matthie- 
son, there dreaming off into fantasy with Jacob Bohme. Un- 
der John of Leyden it took the shape of polygamy; under 
Gerhard Tersteegen that of personal union with the Holy 
Ghost. Swedenborg gave to it a large extension, a definite 
form, and even a body of rules. Ann Lee made use of it 
in her project for introducing a female messiah, and estab- 
lishing on the new earth her dogma of the leadership of 
woman. Gdéthe, who seized so much of the finer spirit of 
his race, made this tradition of natural mates assist, if not 
the ends of his philosophy, at least the purposes of his art.’ ? 

In America, on account of the freedom of speech and 
action, the doctrine spread much more widely. In Massa- 
chusetts, Brimfield was the centre. It was here that Dr. 
Gridley, one of the leaders, boasted that he ‘“‘could carry a 
virgin in each hand without the least stir of unholy passion.” 
The Bundling Perfectionism finally ended in the doctrine of 
affinities and the practice of spiritual marriage. 

The starting point of Mormonism, be it remembered, was 
the “burnt district” of New York State. The order of 
things in Mormonism was the same as among the Bundling 
Perfectionists. Religion with its revivals and conversion of 
souls came first, but this led to a socialism which incorporated 
Spiritual Wifehood and finally Polygamy. ‘The completion 
of the development in this case seems to have acquired two 

1W. H. Dixon, Spiritual Wives, II, pp. 188 }. | 


444 SEXUALITY 


generations of leaders: Joseph Smith laid the religious 
foundations, and Brigham Young perfected Polygamy. 

The gist of the famous Battle Axe Letter is found in the 
sentence where Noyes said: “In a holy community there is 
no more reason why sexual intercourse should be restrained 
by law, than why eating and drinking should be; and there 
is as little occasion for shame in the one case as in the other.” 
The publication of this document made a commotion hardly 
less startling than the Brimfield affair, and resulted in the 
complex marriages of the Wallingford and Oneida Creek 
communities. Following the lead of Ann Lee, the Shakers 
founded their colony at Mount Lebanon where the doctrine 
of a chaste Celibate Love is proclaimed and presumably 
practised. 

Andrew Jackson Davis, a cobbler of Poughkeepsie, N. Y., 
wrote “‘The Great Harmonia,” a parody of Swedenborg’s 
mystical dreams, and advocated the doctrines of free mar- 
riage and spiritualism. Since that time the teaching of 
“affinities” has become a part of Spiritualism; many Spirit- 
ualists endeavor to find their affinities. In addition to these 
more pronounced movements, in a hundred cities of America, 
some more or less open forms of Free Love have appeared 
and have been undoubtedly encouraged by the teachings of 
those who sought after the better life and formed irregular 
unions for that purpose. 

We can thus see how the doctrine of “spiritual marriage”’ 
may bring forth a great variety of fruits: at Salt Lake City 
we find Polygamy; among the Spiritualists “Affinities”; at 
Mount Lebanon, Celibate Love; at Wallingford and Oneida 
Creek, Complex Marriage; and in many places, some more 
or less open form of Free Love. 

The other sexual extreme is continence, and is found to be 
connected with religion even more widely than excess. It 
has taken two forms according as the surety for the conti- 


SEXUALITY 445 


nence was castration or vows. Among the ancients and 
Indians of America castration was performed as a sacrifice 
to the gods, as the most sacred gift. ‘To-day it may be con- 
sidered as an obsolete doctrine among Christians. The 
Skoptsy, a contemporary Russian sect, is the exception, for 
this forms the fundamental tenet of their belief. In justifi- 
cation of their action they quote Jesus’ words as recorded in 
Matt. 19 : 12, ‘“‘and there are eunuchs which made themselves 
eunuchs for the kingdom of heaven’s sake.”’ By this means 
all carnal promptings are stifled and worldly affairs are re- 
nounced so that they can attend to spiritual things only. 
True, sexual passions are eradicated by this means, but the 
gain is not commensurate with the loss. We are told that 
eunuchs are cowardly, envious, untruthful, deceitful, and 
devoid of all social feelings.’ 

The cause of the change is somewhat in dispute. Do the 
sexual organs furnish some element to the blood which 
changes the brain and thereby acts upon the mind so as to 
allow it to function in a normally religious manner? Or is 
it that the secreting power of the sexual organs withdraws 
from the blood some element which is detrimental to the 
normal action of the mind? Whatever the cause, the result 
is evident. We see the great difference in the lower animals. 
The ox is larger, his neck is more slender, and in other ways 
his body is much changed; but above all, the change in dis- 
position is most noticeable. He is kind, docile, and easily 
led, compared with the ugly, tricky, and dangerous brute 
which he might otherwise have been. The bull is the normal, 
the ox the abnormal; but the change brought about by cas- 
tration is what I wish to emphasize. The change in man is 
undoubtedly as great, and undoubtedly undesirable. 


1 J. Moses, Pathological Aspects of Religions, p. 32; H. Ellis, Man and 
Woman, p. 201. 
7H. Maudsley, Pathology of Mind, pp. 453 ff. 


446 SEXUALITY 


There is a belief, very old and of doubtful origin, that cas- 
tration is followed by the sudden appearance of characteris- 
tics of the other sex." This has probably no basis in fact, 
but the correct statement is that the secondary sexual char- 
acteristics tend to remain undeveloped.” In the male 
human species, at least, this would be equivalent in some 
respects to the appearance of the physical characteristics 
of the opposite sex, but it does not in the least apply to the 
mental traits. It unsexes man mentally rather than re-sexes 
him. 

The other form of continence is protected by vows and is 
seen in the celibacy of the clergy, monks, and nuns. While 
the example of pagan religions must have had some influence 
in this direction, there were special reasons which may be 
enumerated why the Christian Church adopted the idea of 
the value of celibacy. It was quite common to quote the ex- 
ample of the chief figures in the Christian church: the belief 
in the perpetual virginity of Mary was current, and the celi- 
bate life of John the Baptist and Jesus was pointed to with 
pride. The fact that St. Peter, to whom a general primacy 
was early ascribed, was unquestionably married was a diff- 
culty which, it was hoped, would be nullified by the tradition 
that both he and the other married apostles abstained from 
intercourse with their wives after their conversion. St. 
Paul was probably unmarried and his writings, which showed 
a decided preference for the unmarried state, were always 
exhibited and not infrequently exaggerated. 

Coupled with this we find a second reason, viz., woman 
per se was considered an evil. The monks especially shunned 
women. St. Basil would only speak to a woman under ex- 
treme necessity; St. John of Lycopolis had not seen a woman 
for forty-eight years. ‘‘So far as possible,” says Isadore, 


©. Weininger, Sex and Character, p. 18 f. 
* Geddes and Thompson, The Evolution of Sex, p. 23. 


SEXUALITY 447 


‘fall converse with women is to be shunned—or, if this can- 
not altogether be avoided, they shall be spoken with only, the 
eyes fixed on the earth. . . . In the case of almost all who 
have fallen by their means, death hath entered in by the win- 
dows!” * Dom Guigo, of the Carthusians, said, ‘‘ Under no 
circumstances whatever do we allow woman to set foot 
within our precincts, knowing as we do that neither wise 
man, nor prophet, nor judge, nor the entertainers of God, 
nor the Sons of God, nor the first created of mankind, fashioned 
by God’s own hands, could escape the wiles and deceits of 
women.” 

Women were represented as the door of hell, and as the 
mother of all human ills; all sorts of insults were heaped 
upon them, and the complete inferiority of the sex was con- 
tinually maintained by law. The sudden upheaval of pas- 
sion experienced by monks at the sight or touch of women 
and. due, of course, to the unnatural inhibition which they 
endeavored to force upon themselves, was charged to the de- 
moniacal nature of women. To laymen, who read of Jesus’ 
mission at the marriage, the reproach that He readily mixed 
with the world, and His choice of women as among His most 
devout followers, the doctrine of celibacy and the inherent 
diabolism of women seemed at variance with the example of 
the Master. 

“Of our Lord it is said that he was continually accom- 
panied in his journeys by women who ‘ministered unto Him.’ 
But the doctors of monkery assure us that the society of 
woman is altogether pernicious, and is wholly incompatible 
with advancement in the Christian life; yes, that the mere 
touch of a female hand is mortal to sanctity! The sanctity 
of the monk, then, and the purity of the Son of God had not, 
it is manifest, any kindred elements. Of the Apostles and 
first disciples it is said that they consorted together ‘with the 

1 Lib. I, Epis. 67. 


448 SEXUALITY 


women’; and throughout the history of the Acts nothing 
appears to have attached to the manners of the Christians 
that was at variance with the genuine simplicity and inno- 
cence which is characteristic of a virtuous intercourse of the 
sexes. A 

It was concerning the difference of opinion about women 
that the dispute arose between the north and the south of 
Europe regarding celibacy. The south said its worst of 
women, and thought it a duty to eschew them. “A girl was 
represented as a serpent, in which there was a lurking demon. 
At her best she was only a fury and a cheat. All the worst 
things in earth and heaven were feminine; . . . the Vices 
were feminine, the Fates were feminine. Eve ate the apple, 
the daughters of Lot debauched their sire, Asenath tempted 
Joseph, Bathsheba led David into sin. Concubines were 
the curse of Solomon. From first to last woman had been a 
danger and delusion to the unsuspecting eye. Her heart was 
vain, her head was light; she was a thing of paint and 
patches, of bangles and braids. Her eyes were bent to entice, 
her feet were swift to go wrong, her words were softened to 
deceive. Her veins were full of fire, and those who came near 
her were always scorched. Her thoughts were unchaste; her 
mouth was greedy for wine; she threw out her lines to entice 
men’s souls. Painted and perfumed like a harlot she sat in 
the porches and the gateways ready to make barter of her 
charms. All her passions were seductive, all her inclinings for 
evil. Her touch was a taint, her very breath was unclean. 
Nay, the desires of her heart were unnatural and demoniac; 
since she preferred a demon lover to a handsome youth of 
mortal parentage, and would yield her beauty to an imp of 
darkness rather than to a holy saint. 

“Men of the Gothic race, on the other side, held woman in 
the highest reverence. Taken as either a mother or a wife, 

‘I. Taylor, Fanaticism, p. 106 f. 


SEXUALITY 449 


they looked on her, habitually, as something finer and more 
precious than themselves. In their simple souls they imag- 
ined that the best of men must be all the better for having 
won a good woman’s love; nay, that a wise husband and 
father would be more likely to make a good pastor, than a 
recluse who had neither wife to soften, nor child to instruct 
his heart. An old and mystic sentiment of their race inclined 
them to believe that women have a quicker sense and keener 
enjoyment of spiritual things than men; hence they never 
could be made to see how the separation of priests from the 
daily and domestic company of women should work for 
good. In their old mythologies women had a high and almost 
sacred place, 2.7? 

The south triumphed for a season, but the world has rec- 
ognized that the feminine part of human nature is not so de- 
graded and degrading that the man who loves the society of 
a wife is thereby unfitted to approach the altar of God. Not- 
withstanding the bitter feeling on the part of the monks, it 
appears that there was always a respect for women who had 
taken a vow of virginity. ‘‘The most esteemed writers, from 
Cyprian back as far as Justin Martyr, give special honor to the 
class of women who, from early times, chose to remain single 
and to devote themselves to doing good. Consecration to 
virginity by a vow solemnly taken, which it was a great sin to 
violate, was an established custom in Cyprian’s time. The 
order of virgins continued. In the fourth century it was 
already the custom for them to wear a dark-colored dress 
and to be invested by the hands of the bishop with a bridal 
veil, asymbol that they were wedded to the Lord. It may be 
here added that an order of widows, distinct from the class 
of poor widows noticed in the Pastoral Epistles, appears in 
the fourth century. They are pledged to remain unmarried 
and to devote themselves to doing good. From them the 

1W. H. Dixon, Spiritual Wives, II, pp. 278-280. 


450 SEXUALITY 


class of deaconesses was often recruited, the duties of both 
classes being similar.” * 

But further, there was a certain mystical exaltation of the 
unmarried state whereby the celibate considered this the 
highest spiritual attainment. It was a praiseworthy act of 
self-denial.” The central and distinctive virtue of the New 
Testament was undoubtedly love; not so with the medieval 
church; chastity was the ideal state. This, however, did not 
refer to the purity of undefiled marriage, but the absolute sup- 
pression of the sensuous side of nature by the perpetual 
struggle against all carnal impulses. 

What advantage was gained by impressing the minds of 
men with the importance of chastity was more than counter- 
balanced by the pernicious influence upon marriage. Only 
the lowest aspects of marriage were discussed; the love elicited 
and the holy and beautiful domestic qualities inspired were 
apparently unthought of. “It is remarkable how rarely, if 
ever (I cannot call to mind an instance), in the discussion of 
the comparative merits of marriage and celibacy, the social 
advantages appear to have occurred to the mind. .. . It is 
always argued with relation to the interests and the perfection 
of the individual soul; and, even with regard to that, the 
writers seem almost unconscious of the softening and human- 
izing effect of the natural affections, the beauty of parental 
tenderness and filial love.” * The effect on married persons 
of any devoutness seemed to have been to make it impossible 
for them to live together longer, and the church frowned 
upon any thought of a second marriage.* Of not a little influ- 


1G. P. Fisher, History of the Christian Church, p. 62. 

*See A. V. G. Allen, Christian Institutions, p. 162; G. P. Fisher, 
History of the Christian Church, p. 62; W. E. H. Lecky, Hzstory of 
European Morals, Il, p. 122. 

°H. H. Milman, History of Christianity, III, p. 196. 

*W. E. H. Lecky, History of European Morals, Il, pp. 322- 
324. 


SEXUALITY 451 


ence upon the idea that celibacy engendered an exalted spir- 
itual state was the example of men who by temperament 
were not inclined to marriage and devoted themselves with 
great zeal to the work of the church. 

“The true extent of the violence done to human nature by 
the practice of religious celibacy has been in a great measure 
concealed from notice by a partial fact which seems to excuse 
it. It is always true that, in a body of men taken at random, 
a certain number will be found—we need not hazard a con- 
jecture as to the amount, to whom, from peculiarity of tem- 
perament, a life of celibacy cannot be deemed unnatural, and 
to whom it will be no grievance. At least it may be affirmed 
as such, that some moderate and accidental motive of pru- 
dence, or taste, or the vexations of an early disappointment; 
or perhaps a praiseworthy regard to the welfare of relatives, 
will abundantly suffice to reconcile them to their singular lot. 
Then beyond this small circle there will be a wider one, in- 
cluding not a very few, to whom a motive some degrees 
stronger will prove efficient to the same end. A vigorous 
selfishness, for example, abhorrent of disturbance in its com- 
forts, or fearful of the diminution of its dainties, will answer 
such a purpose; and are there not those who would never 
marry lest they should be compelled to dine less sumptuously ? 
Or a strong intellectual taste produces the same effect: there 
have been artists and philosophers, many; indeed, some of the 
most illustrious of men, who, having wedded a fair ideal, 
have sought no other love. Still more, the powerful senti- 
ments of religion have, in very many instances, and in a 
manner not culpable—sometimes commendable—separated 
men from the ordinary lot, and rendered them in a gen- 
uine sense virtuous, as well as happy, in single life. Such 
cases—exceptions made without violence, it is proper 
to take account of; they are WNature’s exceptions, and 
those who come fairly under the description might be styled 


452 SEXUALITY 


a physical aristocracy, bofn to illustrate the supremacy of 
mind.” * 

Unfortunately, the Roman system is not eclectic; it takes 
all temperaments, and does not restrict itself to the frigid 
class upon whom celibacy would fall most lightly. If willing 
to do this it would be exceedingly difficult, for the decision to 
take orders is made before character is really settled, usually 
at about the age of eighteen. 

From the standpoint of the church, the value of clerical 
celibacy was as a supposed remedy for clerical licentiousness. 
The celibacy of the clergy was the great victory of monasti- 
cism, and to the Clugny monks much of the credit for this 
victory should be ascribed. Unfortunately, the victory was 
a signal defeat, for the clergy were no more faithful to their 
vows than the monks. The monks and clergy took the vow 
of celibacy and called it chastity, and the result, as all would 
expect, was such disastrous moral failure and collapse as to 
cast a discredit on monasticism from which it has not yet re- 
covered, and the church has not entirely escaped. Men who 
would have possessed an ordinarily pure mind in some useful 
occupation of life, became the prey of the most lewd and ob- 
noxious imaginations. They then fancied themselves vile 
above their fellowmen, and laid on more stripes, fasted more 
hours, and put more nails in their garments, only to find that 
instead of fleeing, the devils became blacker and more nu- 
merous. The puny, emaciated body which most of the saints 
desired to possess, gave no advantage in the struggle with the 
carnal nature. Their austerities were a failure, for in many 
cases the passions were stronger, and in all cases the self- 
control was less. | 

Intellectual precocity, with its attendant irritable delicacy, 
or debility of constitution, was often the reason for taking 
orders, and these are the very cases upon which most vio- 

1]. Taylor, Fanaticism, p. 154 f. 


SEXUALITY 453 


lence would be perpetrated. Instead of peace as the result of 
the irrevocable oath, a tempest of passion raged in the bosom 
—a tempest so much the more afflictive because it could gain 
no vent. In the clergy more than in the monk the duty of the 
confessional aggravated this. 

“But what must be thought of auricular confession when 
he into whose prurient ear it is poured lives under the irrita- 
tion of a vow of virginity! The wretched being within whose 
bosom distorted passions are rankling is called daily to listen 
to tales of licentiousness from his own sex . . . and, infinitely 
worse, to the reluctant, or the shameless disclosures of the 
other! Let the female penitent be of what class she may, 
simple hearted, or lax, the repetition of her dishonor, while it 
must seal the moral mischief of the offense upon herself, even 
if the auditor were a woman, enhances it beyond measure 
when the instincts of nature are violated by making the re- 
cital toa man. But shall we imagine the effect upon the sen- 
timents of him who receives the confession? Each sinner 
makes but one confession in a given time, but each priest in 
the same space listens to a hundred! What, then, after a while 
must that receptacle have become into which the continual 
droppings of all the debauchery of a parish are falling, and 
through which the copious abomination filters.”’ * 

What was the moral result? Open scandals and shame- 
less bigamy and concubinage were too common to attract 
attention. Nunneries were like brothels; unnatural love 
lingered in monasteries; in 1130 an abbot in Spain was 
proved to have kept no less than seventy concubines; in 1274 
the Bishop of Liege was deposed for having sixty-five illegiti- 
mate children; Pope John XXIII was condemned among 
other crimes for incest and for adultery. 

“Tt is a popular illusion, which is especially common 
among writers who have little direct knowledge of the middle 

11. Taylor, Fanaticism, p. 174 jf. 


454 SEXUALITY 


ages, that the atrocious immorality of monasteries, in the 
century before the Reformation, was a new fact, and that the 
ages when the faith of men was undisturbed were ages of great 
moral purity. In fact, it appears, from the uniform testi- 
mony of the ecclesiastical writers, that ecclesiastical immo- 
rality in the eighth and three following centuries was little if at 
all less outrageous than in any other period, while the Pa- 
pacy, during almost the whole of the tenth century, was held 
by men of infamous lives. Simony was nearly universal. 
Barbarian chieftains married at an early age, and totally in- 
capable of restraint, occupied the leading positions in the 
church, and gross irregularities speedily became general. 
An Italian bishop of the tenth century epigrammatically 
described the morals of his time, when he declared, that if he 
were to enforce the canons against unchaste people admin- 
istering ecclesiastical rites, no one would be left in the church 
except the boys; and if he were to observe the canons against 
bastards, these also must be excluded.” ! 

It is only just to say that in the most degenerate times there 
were a few who held rigidly to their vows, and in some cases 
the object of their vows was accomplished, if we can trust 
the contemporaneous accounts. Evagrius describes, with 
much admiration, how certain monks of Palestine, by ‘‘a life 
wholly excellent and divine,”’ had so overcome their passions 
that they were accustomed to bathe with women; for “neither 
sight nor touch, nor a woman’s embrace, could make them 
relapse into their natural condition.” It is also true that after 
a struggle absolute sexual suppression was achieved in a few 
cases, which caused a greater intensity of spiritual fervor. 
The emotions being dammed up on one side burst out in an- 
other direction. ‘This direction cannot always be guided, 
however, nor can we always tell, when we tamper with nat- 
ural impulses, how it will affect the other psychic factors. 

‘W. E. H. Lecky, History of European M orals, II, p. 329 f. 


SEXUALITY 455 


If the spirit is baffled in its first desires, and defeated, not 
subdued, it may suddenly meet a new excitement of a differ- 
ent order, and combining with the novel element, rush on 
ungovernable. May we not then believe that some of the 
most portentous exhibitions of ungovernable violence in his- 
tory have been the perversion of some long-suppressed pas- 

sion which suddenly found an outlet? Certain extreme cases 
_ of religious ferocity might be explained on this principle; then 
the mystery of the union of virtue and piety (?) with a hor- 
rible cruelty of temper would be elucidated. It is certainly 
true that whatever tender and compassionate influences may 
come from a wife and family (and they are not a little) would 
be lost by the celibate, and hence this factor would not be 
present to restrain him. 

One other cause which may have had some influence on 
the adoption of continence was the tendency which it gave to 
morbid conditions when observed. Under this rule religion 
assumed a very sombre hue. The business of the saint was 
to eradicate a natural appetite and to become abnormal. 
Morbid introspection and hallucinations resulted. In early 
days all abnormal conditions were considered to be signal 
favors from God, and the celibate was the recipient of these.’ 


1In addition to the references already given in this chapter, see T. 
Schroeder, “ Religion and Sensualism as connected by Clergymen,” 
American Journal of Religious Psychology and Education, III, pp. 
16-28. 


CHAPTER XXX 
DENOMINATIONALISM 


‘A plague of opinion! A man may wear it on both sides, like 
a leather jerkin.”—SHAKESPEARE. 


THE trees in the oak grove, the nestlings in the robin’s — 
brood, the cattle upon the thousand hills, and the children 
around the family table indicate very clearly that individuals 
of the same species are very much alike and yet quite differ- 
ent. Not only the bodies but the minds of men show these 
two characteristics. These striking similarities and con- 
comitant wide divergencies are the marvel of God’s universe. 
To the former fact is due the possibility of a common re- 
ligion, to the latter, the necessity of different denominations. 

The dream of the idealist, that denominations at some 
time will be a memory of the past, is a will-o’-the-wisp. It 
recedes as one advances, and at the moment you catch it, be- 
hold it is lost. Supposing the possibility of one church, what 
conditions would exist? It would be but a name and no 
more of a reality than at present. The Methodist would 
still cling to his methods, the Presbyterian to his presbytery, 
the Baptist to his baptism, the Episcopalian to his episcopus, 
and the Congregationalist to his congregational government. 
Birds of a feather would continue to flock together, and the 
real conditions would not be changed. 

Why not have one church? Are the perversity and stub- 
bornness of mankind to blame? Not that; men are psycho- 
logically constituted so that different things appeal to differ- 
ent persons, and religiously these things are represented by 

456 


DENOMINATIONALISM 457 


different denominations. Cannot men be sufficiently loyal 
to Jesus Christ to give up their petty differences? They are 
so loyal to Jesus that they will not surrender what to them is 
truth. Are the citizens of this country less patriotic because 
they are divided into numerous political parties? They ex- 
press their patriotism by espousing those principles, the 
adoption of which, they believe, would assist in the country’s 
prosperity. Denominations are a necessity and will continue 
to be, so long as men’s minds operate as they do now. And 
these differences show God’s handiwork as plainly as the 
planets in the heavens which shine with different brilliancy, 
travel in different orbits, and attract different satellites. 

‘“‘Man is constitutionally bound to seek continually, and 
until he find it, such a religious belief and such a life of re- 
ligion as shall bring satisfaction to his manifold cravings and 
needs. ‘These cravings and needs are themselves the subject 
of ceaseless change; they may become the subjects of devel- 
opment. That is to say, they may become more refined and 
enlightened, more rational, and morally worthy of satisfac- 
tion.” * 

The general absence of sects, and the agreement in belief 
among primitive people and in new sects was due largely to 
the lack of reflection concerning religious truth, and the 
weight of authority which was always felt. No variety of 
experiences of a religious character asserted itself in the 
lower stages of religious development, for the mentality of the 
people was too crude to favor originality. When religion 
became more complex in its later development, and indi- 
viduals began to think, and to have certain varieties of ex- 
periences which did not agree with the fixed creed, then 
sects sprang up and have continued to increase in number 
ever since. The individual soul, being capable of a certain 
amount of initiative, refuses to allow his religious beliefs to 

1G. T. Ladd, Philosophy of Religion, I, p. 252. 


458 DENOMINATIONALISM 


be circumscribed by the statement of his neighbors, and is 
impelled to think things out for himself. He recognizes the 
repression of church creed and organization, which refuses 
him adequate expression of his individual experience, and 
there is a tendency to form a new religious body which, al- 
though it may repress someone else, gives freedom to him 
and to others who have felt as he does. This individuality in 
religion is an evidence of growth. 

“The formation of sects is, indeed, both an evidence of, 
and a necessity to, the life of any religion.” The more vigor- 
ous and vital the religious spirit, the greater is the tendency 
to division; and it is noticeable that where we find the great- 
est religious intensity, the evident difference of religious opin- 
ion exists. These spontaneous, individual experiences in- 
evitably become labelled heterodoxy, and sects founded on 
them are called heretical; through continued existence and 
final success they become orthodoxy, and hence our religion 
is enriched by a new element. This new sect, however, be- 
comes the old and stable, and, forgetting its origin, attempts 
to annihilate any heretical genius who may appear to fight for 
recognition. In the estimation of his fellowmen the religious 
leader passes through the stages of lunacy, knavery, death, 
martyrdom, and saintship; the different stages show the 
growth of the ideas which he espoused. The blood of the 
martyr is really the seed of the church out of which grows 
a richer and grander and fuller form of religion. 

“In what can the originality of any religious movement 
consist, save in finding a channel, until then sealed up, through 
which those springs may be set free in some group of human 
beings? The force of personal faith, enthusiasm and example, 
and, above all, the force of novelty, are always the prime sug- 
gestive agency in this kind of success. ... In its acuter 
stages every religion must be a homeless Arab of the desert. 
The church knows this well enough, with its everlasting inner 


DENOMINATIONALISM 450 


struggle of the acuter religion of the few against the chronic 
religion of the many, indurated into an obstructiveness worse 
than that which irreligion opposes to the movings of the 
spirit.” * 

Unless, in some way, every large church can shepherd 
a variety of subordinate groups, and permit individual di- 
versity, it must inevitably be broken into sects. Perhaps the 
great mistake of the past has been in denominational dog- 
matism. When a sect started, the church said, ‘‘ You must 
not.” If left alone and undisturbed it would soon die, or 
else the truth in it would readily coalesce with the doctrines 
already held. The emphasis of attempted destruction or vio- 
lent persecution is the soil in which sects flourish best—in 
fact, it is the only soil in which they can grow at all. 

Some persons explain their adherence to one denomination 
rather than to another by saying: ‘‘I believe I am a Metho- 
dist because my father was.”’ That is true, and is only an- 
other way of saying that psychologically he is constituted so 
as to accept the tenets of the Methodist Church because, 
through the well known laws of heredity, he is like his father 
who was likewise constituted. 

Another one says: ‘‘I am a Presbyterian because I was 
brought up in a Presbyterian family and taught Presbyterian 
doctrines, although my parents were both Congregational- 
ists.”” This is the statement of another scientific fact. It is 
no secret: we know that our minds are changed by training, 
and we are different persons psychologically to-day because 
we have reacted to different environments. The character- 
istics of men’s minds are determined, to a certain extent, by 
these two factors—heredity and environment—-and the re- 
sultant choice of a denomination is no accident, it follows a 
scientific law. 

We must also recognize, however, that notwithstanding the 

1W. James, The Varieties of Religious Expertence, p. 114. 


460 DENOMINATIONALISM 


similarity brought about through the agency of heredity and 
environment, there is always the variation to be taken into 
consideration, and to this variation is due the possibility of 
evolution and general advancement. With similar heredity 
and environment we find vastly different minds. Luther is a 
pertinent example of this. His parentage was Roman Cath- 
olic, his training was Roman Catholic even to that of the 
cloister, and yet psychologically Luther was not a Roman 
Catholic. From the historical fact that many were found at 
the same time with similar tendencies, we might consider the 
psychological change from authority to rationalism to be a 
product of the evolution of the race. 

The mental affinity of certain persons and denominations 
is an ideal and theoretical condition. Practically the case is 
different because many persons have not found the denomi- 
nations where they correctly belong. One’s soul may yearn 
for esthetic satisfaction to be found in those denominations 
which lay emphasis on the beauty of worship, whose lot is 
cast among Puritans who despise what they consider the 
show of form, or condemn elevating strains of inspiring music. 
Another, equally unfortunate, is worshiping amidst that 
which appeals to the finer feelings but which finds no re- 
sponse in the breast of him whose idea of worship is that of 
rigid bodily sacrifice, and he austerely condemns the pleas- 
ures of sense disguised in religious garments. Until these two 
exchange places they cannot really worship, nor are they true 
to themselves and to God. Puritans think that Ritualism 
worships a fantastic God who is pleased with toys and tinsel; 
ritualists consider that Puritanism worships a God who is 
a monster of cruelty, and that the service is bleak and cold. 
Ritualism appeals to the complexity of man’s nature, espe- 
cially the zesthetic sentiments which are so closely allied to the 
religious; beside these appeals, the more strict Protestantism 
presents but barrenness. 


DENOMINATIONALISM 461 


The great dividing line in the Christian religion is that 
drawn between Roman Catholics and so-called Protestants. 
What are the distinguishing characteristics ? 

“Tn the great convulsions of the sixteenth century the femi- 
nine type followed Catholicism, while Protestantism in- 
clined more to the masculine type. Catholicism alone re- 
tained the Virgin worship, which at once reflected and sus- 
tained the first. The skill by which it acts upon the emotions 
by music, and painting, and solemn architecture, and im- 
posing pageantry, its tendency to appeal to the imagination 
rather than to the reason, and to foster modes of feeling 
rather than modes of thought, its assertion of absolute and in- 
fallible certainty, above all, the manner in which it teaches 
its votary to throw himself perpetually on authority, all tended 
in the same direction.” * 

“Whoever is lacking in character is lacking in convictions. 
The female, therefore, is credulous, uncritical, and quite un- 
able to understand Protestantism. Christians are Catholics 
or Protestants before they are baptized, but, none the less, it 
would be unfair to describe Catholicism as feminine simply 
because it suits women better.” ? 

In addition to this we may find other distinctions. They 
chiefly centre around differences of authority and emphasis. 
The organization or its representatives is the authority in the 
Roman Catholic Church, and its emphasis is laid on death 
rather than on life. Among Protestants authority is found in 
reason, conscience, or the Bible, or in a combination of any 
or all of these with the church organization. When any per- 
son desires to have men tell him what to believe so that he 
can accept this dictum as final and infallible, rather than 
having a ‘‘reason for the faith that is within him,” he is a 
Roman Catholic whether he is worshiping in St. Peter’s in 


1W.E. H. Lecky, The History of European Morals, Il, p. 368. 
*Q. Weininger, Sex and Character, p. 207. 


462 DENOMINATIONALISM 


Rome or Spurgeon’s Tabernacle in London. If connected 
with this attitude there is a tendency to emphasize dying, 
death, and after death, rather than correct living here and 
now (and these two are not infrequently connected) the diag- 
nosis is certain, and you have discovered a Roman Catholic 
even if he is in the midst of a Protestant church. And it is 
not so difficult as it might at first seem to discover Protestant 
popes among our clergy who are willing and anxious to dic- 
tate to their parishioners with a consciousness of infallibility 
which might cause Pius X to guard his laurels. 

On the other hand, there is no doubt that under the shel- 
tering wing of the Papacy there are those who are not satisfied 
with the ex cathedra utterances of other men, but who wish 
to think their own way through, and with the use of the 
Bible, interpreted by an enlightened understanding, they 
come to independent conclusions. These men are Protestants 
and have no right to remain in Rome. While the Roman 
Church is undoubtedly more tolerant than formerly, and is 
now very careful not to make any utterances which would 
bring the papal authority to a real test, it yet demands abso- 
lute submission, and this some cannot give. 

“The strength of these esthetic sentiments makes it rig- 
orously impossible, it seems to me, that Protestantism, how- 
ever superior in spiritual profundity it may be to Catholi- 
cism, should at the present day succeed in making many con- 
verts from the more venerable ecclesiasticism. ‘The latter 
offers a so much richer pasturage and shade to the fancy, 
has so many cells with so many different kinds of honey, is so 
indulgent in its multiform appeals to human nature, that 
Protestantism will always show to Catholic eyes the alms- 
house physiognomy. ‘The bitter negativity of it is to the 
Catholic mind incomprehensible.” * 

What is so clearly illustrated by this wider division be- 

‘W. James, The Varieties of Religious Experience, p. 460. 


DENOMINATIONALISM 463 


tween the Roman Catholics and the Protestants is equally 
true but less apparent in the more closely allied branches of 
Protestantism. Men, from their very natures, belong to cer- 
tain denominations, and can never receive the most from 
their worship until they find their proper niches. We can- 
not, therefore, call denominationalism an unmitigated evil: 
rather the opposite. If we know that men cannot worship 
with us in the way which seems best to them, we should be 
willing and even rejoice that there are congregations with 
whom they can worship in sincerity and truth. 

The benefits of denominationalism so far discussed have 
been chiefly concerned with its necessity. It is not well to 
stop with this, for, in addition, denominationalism is valuable 
on account of the emphasis placed on various important doc- 
trines by the different sects. All denominations either have 
stood in the past or do stand now for some doctrine by which 
Christianity has profited on account of this emphasis. And 
this denomination may have done its work so well that the 
world has accepted its teaching, and therefore its raison 
d etre has ceased. For example: in the early history of this 
country the Baptists advocated religious liberty, and al- 
though flogged, fined, and imprisoned by those who came 
here to seek freedom of worship, never persecuted others. 
So well has this lesson of religious liberty been inculcated 
into the American people, and so thoroughly does it fit into 
the political and other ideas of this continent, that were this 
the only variation of Baptist doctrine, the denomination as 
a separate body should surrender its individuality. 

The union now taking place between different denomina- 
tions may be accounted for in this way. The distinctive doc- 
trines are now matters of common belief and the excuse for a 
separate existence is becoming less and less valid. Thus it is 
in some cases that persons may say that they could as well 
unite with one church as another, because there may be 


4604 DENOMINATIONALISM 


little or no real difference. But even although denomina- 
tions so emphasize certain doctrines that they are in danger 
of “working themselves out of a job,” on account of the 
psychological differences in people, there is no likelihood of 
denominationalism being entirely eliminated. The doctrines 
of different denominations may appear to be almost or quite 
contradictory, and these denominations can never agree to 
abandon either or both doctrines, and if they should, Chris- 
tianity would suffer a distinct loss rather than a gain. 


CHAPTER XXXI 
IMMORTALITY 


“x. I can call spirits from the vasty deep. 
2. Why, so can I; or so can any man: 
But will they come when you do call them?’ 
—SHAKESPEARE. 


It may seem strange to some persons that psychology should 
touch the subject of immortality when in the past philosophy 
and revelation have had the exclusive right to this field.’ 
They have used this right to such good advantage that they 
have largely exhausted their information, and any advance to 
be made or additional matter to be added must be furnished 
from other sources. Psychology has been the science to step 
forward and offer its services. Its first contribution was a 
destructive one and came from that borderland realm where 
psychology touches the physical sciences. Physiological 
psychology furnished a stubborn objection. Physical science 
has proved the mortality of the body; in its attempts to con- 
nect vitally the mind and the body it has essayed to demon- 
strate also the cessation of mental activity. Allow science to 
speak for itself through one of its chief exponents, Professor 
Huxley: 

“So with respect to immortality. As physical science 
states this problem, it seems to stand thus: Is there any means 
of knowing whether the series of states of consciousness, 
which has been casually associated for threescore years and 


‘For a general survey of the history of the subject, see L. Elbé, 
Future Lije in Light of Ancient Wisdom and Modern Science. 


465 


466 IMMORTALITY 


ten with the arrangement and movements of innumerable 
millions of material molecules, can be continued in like asso- 
ciation with some substance which has not the properties of 
matter and force? As Kant said, on a like occasion, if any- 
body can answer that question he is just the man I want to 
see. If he says that consciousness cannot exist, exceptin 
relation of cause and effect with certain organic molecules, 
I must ask how he knows that; and if he says it can, I must 
ask the same question.” 

For many years it has been noticed that an injury to the 
brain interfered with conscious acts and the interference was 
approximately proportionate to the injury; that the blood 
supply must be adequate both in quantity and quality to en- 
able the mind to function properly; that certain parts of the 
brain were concerned with movements of certain parts of the 
body; and that many other facts showed an intimate con- 
nection between the physical and the mental. Not knowing 
the nature of mind and having some idea of the body it was, 
perhaps, only natural it should be considered that in some 
way the mind was directly dependent upon the brain. Of 
course the primary crass statement that the brain secreted 
thought as the liver did bile was not long espoused, but the 
domination of physical science during the last half century 
has led many to believe that in some way thought was a 
function of the brain. 

So fatal was this objection considered that many expedi- 
ents have been resorted to in order that it might be over- 
come. Various physical substances have been suggested as a 
fitting material for a “spiritual body.” Not the least in- 
genious of these is the one which hypothesizes luminous or 
interstellar ether as the physical substratum of the post- 
mortem spirit. This ether, the medium through which the 
““X ray” and wireless telegraphy operate, is supposed to 
provide an exact counterpart of the brain, which it readily 


IMMORTALITY 467 


penetrates. Thus the spirit is not unclothed nor disembodied, 
and if necessary the appearance of ghosts has a rational basis.’ 

That mind and matter are different is clearly recognized 
by physical science to-day, but if mind is not a function of 
the brain how can we explain the relation? Some years ago 
one lucid writer, John Stuart Mill, expressed himself in the 
following words: 

“There are thinkers who, because the phenomena of life 
and consciousness are associated in their minds by undeviat- 
ing experience with the action of material organs, think it an 
absurdity per se to imagine it possible that those phenomena 
can exist under any other conditions. But they should re- 
member that the uniform coexistence of one fact with another 
does not make the one fact a part of the other or the same 
withit. The relation of thought to the brain isno metaphysi- 
cal necessity, but simply a constant coexistence within the 
limits of observation.” 

This objection was dealt with in one of the Ingersoll Lec- 
tures” at Harvard University and the explanation there given, 
or rather the hypothesis there presented, at least admits 
of our positing a less vital connection. There are three 
kinds of functions: productive, releasing or permissive, 
and transmissive. In speaking of thought as a function 
of the brain, only the productive function is usually con- 
sidered, and if this is true, then when the brain stops 
producing, thought ceases to exist. But if we consider 
the function as of either the last two classes, then so far 
as thought being dependent on the brain and ceasing with 
it is concerned, the removal of the brain would tend to facili- 
tate the action of the mind. To use an illustration: the win- 
dow serves the purpose, not of producing the light, but of 
transmitting it. If made of very dark colored glass or if dirty 


1§$. D. McConnell, The Evolution of Immortality, chap. XV. 
7W. James, Human Immortality. 


468 IMMORTALITY 


and dusty less light is admitted, so that the room may be 
nearly dark. If the window is entirely removed not a cessa- 
tion of light but a great increase of light is noticed, in fact, the 
light is admitted untrammeled. Do we not find that this 
sort of function best applies to what we know of the relation 
between the mind and the brain? It might be well to notice 
in passing that, on the productive theory, telepathy, clairvoy- 
ance, and spiritism are impossible, for how can the brain 
produce these things apart from the sense organs? ‘The 
transmission theory places no objection in the way of theories 
including these phenomena. | 

Leaving, then, the objections we eagerly ask if psychology 
has anything to add by way of evidence in support of the 
doctrine of immortality. We might examine the genesis of 
the quite universal belief in immortality even among those 
individuals and races which can provide no rational state- 
ment of either their beliefs or the reasons underlying them. 
Philosophy has, however, used this fact so freely and so long 
a time that it is hardly worth while for us even to mention it. 
We might also speak of mental development both in the indi- 
vidual and in the race and base our argument on this, but 
again philosophy has forestalled us. We are forced, then, to 
bring forward but one argument, or rather to make way for 
one set of facts which promises to be stronger and more 
forceful the more it is investigated. I refer to the phenomena 
included under the investigations of spiritism. 

For a century or more the reaction from the age of witch- 
craft has caused a disbelief in any form of spirit manifestation. 
Science, however, laughs at nothing except the fear of being 
laughed at. She has learned by far too many bitter experi- 
ences that what is laughed at by one generation is not infre- 
quently accepted and lauded by the next. Facts, facts, and 
the explanation of facts are what science feeds upon and its 
appetite is never satiated. Now there is a large body of facts 


IMMORTALITY 469 


which cannot be explained by current, generally accepted 
theories, but scientific curiosity and religious hope spur us on 
to submit them to a rigid, careful investigation. 

For centuries religion has been asking, ‘Is it true that 
there exists a reality corresponding to our faith? Is therea 
spirit world inhabited by the spirits of the departed ?”’ Science 
has but one answer to this: “If a spirit world exist it ought to 
be discoverable, and I will discover it.”” To this attitude of 
science two objections have arisen, one among the friends of 
religion and the other among the friends of physical science. 
The objector representing religion says that, although for 
centuries he has believed in immortality, he does not want it 
proven to him, but he would rather keep it as an object of 
faith than present it as a fact of science. This must remain 
a matter of individual preference. The physicist says that 
this cannot be, and places himself in the position of those of 
whom it was said, “neither would they be persuaded though 
one rose from the dead.”’ For years science has been the 
chief apologist for century-old beliefs, and it may even be in 
this case. Neither of these objections is a valid one. 

Paul, the greatest exponent of Christianity, says that 
Christianity rests upon the resurrection, and our faith is 
vain without it. Christianity must perish or flourish with a 
belief in the resurrection. If it were possible for us to prove 
immortality Christian apologetics would be greatly aided in 
its work. Physical science objects to supersensible evidence 
or foundations, yet it, itself, is founded on supersensible 
bases, as, é. g.,atoms and ether. This should surely pave the 
way for other supérsensible theories and explanations. It 
would not be difficult to point out hypotheses of science 
founded on less evidence than spiritism can produce. 

What shall we say concerning the evidence? In the first 
place we must recognize that, notwithstanding the importance 
of the subject, scarcely fifty serious students have devoted 


470 IMMORTALITY 


themselves to it.’ With the great amount of evidence to 
examine and the nature of the evidence to consider, we must 
expect the subject to be as yet in a rather chaotic condition. 
One thing appears evident, however, while no theory ade- 
quately explains all the facts gathered, the hypothesis of 
chance or coincidence is excluded. Certainly one single in- 
stance of survival after death would be worth more than all 
the philosophical arguments or statements of disbelief and 
agnosticism or of belief and confidence. It is further to be 
considered that one example is as good as one thousand if it 
has good evidential value. Hundreds of millions of people 
believe that this case has been furnished, and the resurrection 
accomplished in the experience of Jesus Christ. Apart from 
the faith of so many to-day, the evidence to support this is 
better in quality and more plentiful than that for most events 
of its time, many of which are accepted without question. 
Science, however, is not content to rest upon evidence cen- 
turies and millenniums old, but desires first-hand facts if pos- 
sible and of recent date where they can be examined. To the 
discussion of these, then, we must turn. 

For the past few years certain investigators have been con- 
cerned with some phenomena which may be classed under the 
name of telepathy. While we understand in general what 
this word stands for, when we come to define it specifically 
we find considerable confusion. The definition has been 
extended or contracted to fit the exigencies of certain cases 
or theories, and it is difficult to assign its limits. Of course 
we recognize that in general it is the transference of thought 
from one mind to another without the use of the ordinary 
means, speech, signs, or symbols. This, then, could be accom- 
plished when persons were separated by long distances. 
Now, the scientific use of this term restricts it to the trans- 


1F. W. H. Myers, Human Personality and its Survival of Bodily 
Death, Il, p. 206. 


IMMORTALITY 471 


ference of thought from one person to another at the timeit 
was consciously in the mind of the former;’ but it has been 
used to refer to the transference of any mental content which 
could be recalled by the former person, or anything which 
has ever been in his mind, either consciously or subcon- 
sciously. One can easily see how this wider and looser use of © 
the word would interfere with the interpretation of facts 
which could otherwise be used as evidence for spirit mani-_ 
festation. 

Telepathy has made a good case and may soon be consid- 
ered as established. Not that it is always operative or that 
all persons can act as either agents or percipients, but spo- 
radically, or between certain persons, experiences, for which 
no other explanation is available at present, have been no- 
ticed. But after you have posited telepathy as a working hy- 
pothesis you have not thereby explained the modus operandi. 
It is generally considered that in some way one mind has an 
influence or power over another, which shows itself by the 
reproduction of thought; but some investigators opine, after 
examining many cases, that the real relation seems to be the 
effect of a mind over a body, 7. e., that an external mind uses 
a body in place of the mind which ordinarily rules it.” How- 
ever, the laws of telepathy are so little known that one cannot 
affirm or deny anything which may be presented. 

In the discussion of these abnormal psychic phenomena, 
telepathy as the most simple hypothesis has been accepted 
wherever it could offer an explanation. If telepathy were 
inadequate, clairvoyance was next called upon to explain the 
facts. This failing, spiritism, as the least likely, was allowed 
an opportunity. The order appears to me incorrect. If tel- 
epathy is accepted as the intercourse of two minds, then spir- 


1 J. H. Hyslop, Science and a Future Life, p. 34 f. 
2F. W. H. Myers, Human Personality and its Survival of Bodily 
Death, Il, p. 196. 


472 IMMORTALITY 


itism is next in order; for what do we mean by spiritism but 
an enlarged telepathy? It is simply the intercourse of two 
minds without the use of ordinary means. We all believe in 
immortality and the persistence of personal identity and 
mental powers; why then should we not extend telepathy to 
include spirits? Clairvoyance is least likely of the three hy- 
potheses, for there is no mind to act as agent and consequently 
there can be no transference to or reproduction in another 
mind by any mental force.. With telepathy accepted as a 
scientific hypothesis it is but a step—a short step—to spirit- 
ism. 

Many objections have been raised to a spiritistic hypoth- 
esis and many efforts have been made to explain a part of the 
phenomena, so classed, by other means, or simply to deny it. 
Some can undoubtedly be explained, but there yet remains 
an inexplicable residue, and on this the spiritists found their 
doctrine. Nothing could be more elaborate than Mr. Myers’ 
attempt to explain every fact by some other means, and his 
honesty and general ability in this cannot be doubted.’ 
Notice the following quotations: | 

“While sounding a timely warning, however, by thus call- 
ing the public attention to the methods of trickery at present 
in vogue, I do not wish it to be understood that I thereby 
relegate the whole of the evidence for the supernormal to the 
waste-basket. That is precisely what I do not wish to do or 
lead others to do. It is because I believe that there do exist 
certain phenomena, the explanations for which have not yet 
been found, and which I think science should be induced to 
systematically study, that I think it necessary to distinguish 
those phenomena from the fraudulent ‘marvels’ so com- 
monly produced, and which are the only spiritualistic phe- 
nomena with which the public is acquainted. When these 


1F. W. H. Myers, Human Personality and its Survival of Bodily 
Death. 


IMMORTALITY 473 


shall have been cleared away, and the weeding-out process 
carried sufficiently far to enable us to see what are the ‘real 
problems’ to be solved, then the real, systematic, scientific 
study of psychic phenomena will have begun.” ? 

“In respect to that [Human Personality and its Survival of 
Bodily Death], I record with pleasure my appreciation of the 
ability and devotion of the author, as well as of the skill of his 
presentations; and [I record with regret, that in spite of a 
common interest in the same range of phenomena, and a fair 
measure of agreement in the interpretation of the more ob- 
jective and verifiable data, I yet find my point of view as 
little in accord with his, that I have been able to profit but 
slightly from his discerning labors.” * In Professor Jastrow’s 
book which follows these words his eclecticism is very marked. 
He accepts without question the evidence of certain witnesses 
concerning crystal gazing and similar phenomena, but as 
unquestioningly refuses the evidence of the same witnesses 
regarding telepathy and spiritism. His explanations do not 
seem to be sufficient to remove the paradox. 

To prove immortality and positively disprove the mate- 
rialist’s arguments, we must separate human consciousness 
from the body. To accomplish the proof of this two kinds of 
evidence must be adduced: the communication purporting 
to come from the dead should show supernormal knowledge, 
and the communication should illustrate and prove the per- 
sonal identity of the one represented and communicating.* 
Now, a great amount of such evidence is already at hand and 
is accessible to any reader. This being so, only three ex- 
planations are possible, viz., fraud on the part of the investi- 
gators, telepathy, and spiritism.* 


1H. Carrington, The Physical Phenomena of Spiritualism, p. 415 }. 
2 J. Jastrow, The Subconsciousness, Preface, p. ix. 

*J. H. Hyslop, Science and a Future Life, p. 105 f. 

‘J. H. Hyslop, Science and a Future Life, pp. 246 ff. 


474 IMMORTALITY 


The high standing of the investigators, both in the com- 
munity and in the scientific-world, precludes the hypotheses 
of fraud. No men of science are more eminent. Men of such 
world-wide renown as Lombroso, Flammarion, Marconi, Sir 
William Crookes, Sir Oliver Lodge, Professor Richet, Pro- 
fessor Hyslop, Professor James, and others, cannot be easily 
set aside by calling them fanatics or dupes. It is rather inter- 
esting to note that in 1898 Sir William Crookes was simul- 
taneously president of the British Association for the Ad- 
vancement of Science, and of the British Society for Psychical 
Research. All the world accepted his conclusions concerning 
physical science without question, but most men laughed at 
his conclusions of a psychical character. Dr. Giuseppe 
Lapponi, medical adviser of Pope Leo XIII and of the 
present pope, has recently published a work entitled, ‘‘Ipno- 
tismo e spiritismo,”’ in which he admits the facts of spiritism 
but denounces the investigation of it as ‘‘dangerous, damn- 
able, immoral, and reprehensible.” This is in harmony 
with the teachings of the Roman Catholic Church which 
considers spiritism a revival of demonology. An experience 
of over twenty years with Mrs. Piper has failed to reveal the 
slightest trace of fraud. 

Some of the investigators find telepathy fraught with more 
weighty and more numerous objections than spiritism— 
objections too numerous for us even to mention in this 
resumé. And even extending telepathy to its widest limits, 
there are some cases which it cannot explain. Further, tel- 
epathy alone is inadequate, for in some of the simplest cases 
double personality or some similar phenomena must be in- 
voked to aid. If the evidence is true, and there is no reason 
to doubt it, the spiritistic hypothesis seems to present the 
best case up to the present time. 

We have only been able to touch this subject in its barest 
outline and an adequate presentation would require far more 


IMMORTALITY 475 


time and space than we could here give. Two points out of 
many we wish to mention further. The first is the trivial 
character of the incidents given, especially those used to 
prove personal identity. One investigator tried an experi- 
ment of this same kind on living persons, endeavoring to 
have them prove their identity by relating incidents over a 
telephone. He found that the incidents related were ofthe 
most trivial character, and although the subjects were college 
professors and students, they might as well have been boot- 
blacks as far as the character of the incidents was concerned.’ 

The second point, and one which throws light upon the 
one just mentioned, is the difficulty of communication. 
Most of the evidence has been received through mediums. 
Now, the medium must be in an abnormal condition—in a 
trance—in order to communicate, and there is reason to sup- 
pose, not only by analogy from this side, but from evidence of 
an internal character, that an abnormal condition is also 
necessary for spirit communicators. If this is true, the won- 
der is not that the incidents given are trivial but that any 
communication at all can be held. Communication would 
also be difficult if the language and signs were not well 
understood by both parties trying to communicate. 

Recently Professor Filippo Bottazzi, head of the depart- 
ment of Physiology in the Royal University of Naples, has 
been making a series of experiments in what may be called the 
physical manifestations of spiritualism.” Together with some 
other careful observers of repute, he met the medium, 
Eusapia Palodino, in the laboratory of the university, where 
instruments of precision could be and were used to measure 
the force used in certain phenomena. Professor Bottazzi 


1 J. H. Hyslop, Science and a Future Life, p. 300. 

?C. Johnson, “Exploring the Spiritual World,” Harper’s Weekly, 
Aug. 15, 1908; H. Garland, “The Shadow World,” LEverybody’s 
Magazine, Aug. and Sept., 1908. 


476 IMMORTALITY 


reached the following conclusion: ‘‘ Mediumistic phenomena, 
when they are not entirely hallucinations of those present at 
the séance, are biological phenomena entirely dependent upon 
the organism of the medium; and if so, .they occur as if ac- 
companied by prolongation of the natural limbs, or as if by 
additional limbs which spread from the body of the medium 
and re-enter it after a variable time, during which time they 
show themselves, as regards the sensation they bring about 
in us, as limbs differing in no essential matter from natural 
or physical members.’”’ Since the conclusion of the experi- 
ment there is a disposition among some to explain all phe- 
nomena which were formerly used as a basis for spiritism 
by the hypothesis of a spiritual, psychic, or astral body, 
whatever these parodoxical terms may mean. 

In this survey I have not attempted to prove spiritism: 
that is not the object. The space is insufficient and the evi- 
dence not yet conclusive. My object here is simply to open 
the way for the evidence for immortality which the science of 
psychology is trying to present. Of course some will say that 
in trying to encourage such evidence we are reverting to the 
age of witchcraft and the testimony of the witch-doctor, and 
instead of advancing with the age we are retrogressing sey- 
eral centuries. It does not matter when spiritism first was 
proposed nor who proposed it, the question for us to ask is, 
‘How far does it accord with the facts?” Immortality is 
believed in by the most advanced nations and individuals; 
why object to its proof? If this should be proved by spiritism 
_ it would not be the first instance of the regeneration of crude 
ideas by scientific men, and the incorporation of these ideas 
into the latest scientific theories. 


CHAPTER XXXII 
PREACHING 


“Well spoken, with good accent and good discretion.” 
— SHAKESPEARE. 


CHRISTIANITY has never been without its great preachers, 
and its propagation has been more or less dependent upon 
public speaking from the time of its Founder to the present. 
A great difference has been noticed in the effectiveness of 
preachers, and in former times this was said to be due to the 
Holy Spirit. This may have been true, but to-day we are 
recognizing that the effectiveness of speakers can be analyzed 
and certain rules may be laid down which, if followed, assist 
a preacher much in cogently proclaiming his message. The 
psychological principles of successful preaching must con- 
cern us in this chapter; these principles would also be appli- 
cable to other forms of public speaking. 

Is preaching declining in its power? The pulpit as an in- 
stitution with its ex cathedra utterances, its assumed author- 
ity, and its preémpted dignity, probably has declined, but the 
preacher as a preacher is yet to be regarded as a mighty 
power. It is true that people can read for themselves now as 
they could not years ago, but the difference between spoken 
and written discourse will always cause a demand for the 
preacher. The sermon which may seem weak and insipid 
when read, may have been powerful when preached. Not 
only the truth, but the man back of it, is a factor of impor- 
tance. The present, personal touch and influence, whatever 
we may find that to be, must be reckoned with. 

477 


478 PREACHING 


The personality of the preacher back of the words makes 
the difference between a good sermon and a poor one, a dif- 
ference not so easy to distinguish in a written discourse. One 
may speak of this as temperament, but temperament plus; 
it is the man as a whole, the balance of his powers and his 
methods. People have not tired of preaching, but only of 
certain styles of sermons and preachers. It is the personality 
which is not attractive. Rather than any particular truth or 
sermon, the chief thing that a man contributes to his congre- 
gation is his tone—the influence of his personality; if that is 
lacking he is as booming brass or a clanging cymbal. 
‘“Whether the minister feels the congregation or not, the con- 
gregation feels the minister.” * 

The physical basis of personality cannot be neglected. 
Spencer says, ‘‘He that with men is a success must begin by 
being a first-class animal.’’ ‘The interdependence of mind 
and body is well known, and the sound body is necessary to 
healthful mental activity. A good appetite and normal di- 
gestion are valuable mental aids to a preacher. Those who 
have succeeded without good bodies have done so notwith- 
standing this handicap, not on account of it. ‘There are 
men a large part of whose magnetism is in their fine, impres- 
sive physique, men who command attention largely by a mas- 
sive figure, a noble bearing, a masterful air, and an organ-like 
voice.” ? Not only indirectly in its effect on the mind, but 
directly the bodily influence is a help to a preacher. 

In common with all public speakers, the preacher has the 
problem of interest and attention on his hands. It is true 
that persons who attend church come because they wish to, 
and know beforehand, to some extent, what subjects may be 
presented and their treatment, but, notwithstanding this, the 
problem is still present. External conditions count for much, 


?P. Brooks, Lectures on Preaching, p. 211. 
? J. S. Kennard, Psychic Power in Preaching. p. 33. 


PREACHING 479 


for if they are not favorable the hearer finds it difficult to 
attend, or else there is a struggle of interests so that attention 
is an effort. Ventilation, temperature, and acoustics may be 
singly or combined of such a character that attention is prac- 
ticably impossible, or the counter claims on the attention of 
giggling choir girls, conflicting noises, inharmonious sur- 
roundings or gorgeous attire may make the preacher’s task 
a difficult one. 

It is not my intention to present a full psychology of the 
attention, for if that is not already known it may be obtained 
from any standard work on psychology; a few points, how- 
ever, in application may be of value. Coming together as a 
congregation with one thing in mind, there is yet a variety of 
interests. Every person voluntarily attends at first, and the 
problem of the preacher as of the teacher is to change atten- 
tion from the voluntary to the spontaneous variety. Professor 
Ribot says that the process of gaining voluntary attention 
may be reduced to the following single formula: ‘To render 

‘attractive by artifice what is not so by nature, to give an arti- 

ficial interest to things that have not a natural interest.” 
“The whole question,” he continues, “‘is reduced to the find- 
ing of effective motives; if the latter be wanting, voluntary 
attention does not appear.’’* This, however, is not the 
prime problem of the preacher. He may well take for granted 
that at the beginning his hearers voluntarily attend. To 
change this to spontaneous attention is his task. 

The power of expectancy is as valuable to the noted 
preacher as to the physician with a great reputation. If a 
preacher has a reputation for brilliancy, wit, or even eccen- 
tricity, he will be aided by expectancy, not only in gaining 
the attention of his hearers, but in holding it. They will vol- 
untarily attend to hear what is coming next, always expecting 


1T. Ribot, Psychology of Attention. The whole book will be found 
valuable. 


480 PREACHING 


and indeed finding, because of their expectancy, things of 
interest in what may really be an uninteresting address. 

The power of personality, already referred to, may be and 
probably is, in part just this. Even the physical appearance 
is a great aid. A small, insignificant looking man with a 
weak voice may have to preach ten minutes, giving utterance 
to the grandest sentiments, before people will begin to listen 
to him; his brother of imposing. appearance and rich voice 
gets the attention from the beginning because people, for 
some reason, expect more from him. Bigness of body, voice, 
subject, or treatment is a law of attention; it is always 
attractive. 

The same thing is true of earnestness and sincerity. A 
study of the great preachers shows the expression of this to 
be very different, in fact often contradictory, in style. Some 
shout, others use little voice; some talk rapidly, others 
slowly; some use many gestures and are always in motion, 
others are almost motionless. Each one’s style, however, 
must betoken sincerity, and be recognized as his way of ex- 
pressing earnestness. The speaker must be interested—this 
interest is contagious. His interest, though, must not be of 
such a character that he forgets the people in the pews. He 
must always have them in mind, not as subjects to whom to 
preach, but as persons who think, and he must, if he is to be 
interesting, view the theme which he presents from their 
standpoints. The reason for this is obvious: nothing entirely 
new can be interesting; in fact, nothing entirely new is com- 
prehensible. On the other hand, if a subject and its treat- 
ment are old and threadbare, it is equally uninteresting. In- 
terest lies between the two extremes. ‘The new in its rela- 
tionship to the old is always attractive. A series of sermons 
may, therefore, be more interesting because a place has been 
made for the new in the previous sermon, and coupled with 
this is the element of expectancy. 


PREACHING 481 


A further word: preaching, to be interesting, should be 
suggestive not exhaustive. Every hearer should be given 
some mental work—he should be allowed to think. A ser- 
mon which makes us think, whether it is in harmony with our 
ideas or not, is always interesting. Activity is pleasurable; 
if we have all the work done for us interest ceases. On the 
other hand, care must be taken not to start lines of interest 
which we do not satisfy, or which shall lead the hearers off 
the main subject or away from the ideas which one wishes to 
present; that is giving them too much to do, or rather is 
giving them things to do which may defeat your object. 
Keep the hearers busy, but lead them your way. 

A psychological fact which must not escape our notice is 
the fluctuation of the attention. We are not able to hold the 
full and undivided attention of a hearer for more than a few 
seconds or minutes at a time. The time will vary with the 
conditions, as, e. g., the physical condition of the hearers, 
time of day, season of the year, or subject discussed. Atten- 
tion comes in waves and we listen as we read, not continu- 
ously but intermittently; we rest every few seconds. The 
unit of hearing is probably from two to four seconds, and 
sentences should be constructed so as not to exhaust by their 
length nor to shock by their brevity. The sentence, the com- 
pleted thought, then becomes the unit and is pleasing. The 
preacher must take advantage of this and by skillful adjust- 
ment get the maximum effect with the minimum of volun- 
tary attention. 

As a further lesson from the fluctuation of attention, we 
must have variety. The monotony of any factor of style or 
expression will fail to coax the attention when it has flagged. 
Especially at the beginning of a discourse this variation must 
be more marked; after the audience has been gripped the 
necessity is not so great, but nevertheless it can never be 
neglected with profit. 


482 PREACHING 


Closely connected with this is the subject of rhythm.’ 
Probably the best examples of the use of rhythm in preaching 
are found among the negro preachers in the south. The 
congregation aids by the swaying of the body, the rhythmic 
shout, or response. The effect on the hearers is more notice- 
able than that produced by the words uttered. Some re- 
vivalists have also taken advantage of this force. The pri- 
mary function of the rhythm is in the esthetic effect which it 
produces, but it also assists the hearers in grasping the 
thought, the accent of the rhythm being a spur to the atten- 
tion. This rhythm, to be of most advantage, must corre- 
spond in length to the unit of thought. 

There is a surprising uniformity in the number of words 
used in a sentence by different speakers and writers. This 
average will differ in different ages but be uniform for a cer- 
tain age. Lately the average has decreased. Before the 
Elizabethan age the average number was about fifty, now it 
is approximately twenty-five. The rhythm does not seem to 
depend so much on the number of words in a sentence as on 
the number of complete predications; the latter averages 
somewhat more than two. “The sentence rhythm is very 
pronounced in many of our contemporary lecturers. With 
some the sentence is short, and every brief period of expecta- 
tion is followed by its appropriate satisfaction. The effect pro- 
duced is quite similar to that produced by the verse and 
stanza in poetry or music.” 

In rhythm, time, pitch, and stress are all used, one or more 
of these elements being present in every recurrence of accent, 
but varying in proportion with different speakers. They 
should all be considered by every public speaker as integral 
factors of rhythm. Prose as well as poetry should be ren- 
dered rhythmically to get the best effects. 

From what has already been said in the chapter on Con- 

1See W. D. Scott, Psychology of Public Speaking, pp. 121-146. 


PREACHING 483 


tagious Phenomena, it will be recognized that the congrega- 
tion may easily become a psychological crowd and yield to 
the power of suggestion on the part of the preacher.’ Even 
if the congregation does not reach the complete status of the 
psychological crowd, it tends in that direction, and suggestion 
is usually more effective than logical reasoning. For the 
purpose of suggestion we must limit in some way the ideas 
presented in consciousness to those which are desired and 
prevent the entrance into consciousness of any inhibiting 
ideas; this is but restating what we have already said when 
discussing interest and attention. The very surroundings, 
the churchly environment, assist in accomplishing this object. 

Conditions are much more favorable for changing a re- 
ligious congregation into a psychological crowd than with 
most audiences. Although a congregation is naturally heter- 
ogeneous from almost every other standpoint, it is to a great 
extent religiously homogeneous. Equality before God is 
preached and is supposed to be practised in and during 
church services if anywhere; the congregation gathers with 
similar feelings, purposes, and aims; all the members par- 
ticipate in the same ritual at the same time and act as one 
person all through the service. The limitation of voluntary 
movements, which is such a valuable accessory in the change 
from a heterogeneous to a homogeneous crowd, seems to be 
best accomplished in a religious congregation. Pressed into 
a pew where movement is difficult, confined in tight and stiff 
Sunday clothing which suggests motionlessness if it does not 
prohibit movement, and restrained by the church custom of 
quietness, the body is held erect and stationary. 

The crowd always demands a leader; it cannot well be a 


1In addition to the references already given in the chapter referred 
to, see W. D. Scott, Psychology of Public Speaking, pp. 149-184; L. W. 
Kline, ‘‘The Sermon: A Study in Social Psychology,” American Journal 
of Religious Psychology and Education, I, pp. 288-300. 


484 PREACHING 


crowd without one. The preacher, of course, fills this réle. 
His personality, especially those physical qualities which do 
not seem to be otherwise essential, aids him in this position. 
The greater the authority he presents the more easily the 
crowd accepts him. Because of this, the crowd becomes very 
credulous and receives without question anything which he 
suggests. The ignorant preacher, like a ward politician, un- 
consciously probably, but none the less truly, becomes a 
practical psychologist of power in a limited sphere. As a 
leader the preacher not only speaks with some authority, but 
he already has, on account of his position, the confidence of 
the congregation, and thereby has a great advantage over the 
ordinary speaker who may have to win his way. Authority 
and confidence are two important factors in rendering an 
audience suggestible. 

Having these, how shall a preacher proceed? He must fit 
the sermon to the crowd, and this is quite different from fit- 
ting the same address to the different individuals of the 
crowd. We have already noticed that we cannot reason with 
a crowd, no matter how reasonable each member of the crowd 
may be individually. By becoming members of the crowd 
they are thereby deprived of reason for the time. That does 
not mean that unreasonable things may be baldly suggested, 
but that no logical development and process can be profitably 
used. Affirm, affirm the same thing emphatically and re- 
peatedly is the rule. These affirmations are the more effective 
for being arranged so as to reach a climax, but repetition of the 
affirmation periodically in the sermon is the principal thing. 

What this affirmation should consist of is not so important 
so long as it contains common ideas saturated with feeling. 
The more vague it is in definition, within limits, the more 
effective it is found to be. Such words as unity, brother- 
hood, salvation, or freedom are examples of those on which 
the changes should be rung. They are universal in applica- 


PREACHING 485 


tion and stimulate the fundamental sentiments of human 
nature, so all the congregation can be influenced thereby. 
While these ideas may be general and more or less vague, 
the crowd thinks concretely. Figures of speech, especially 
the metaphor, are therefore, much appreciated by the crowd 
and as a rule very effective. If these figures can be used so 
as to suggest the climax and conclusion, and have the audi- 
ence arrive at the conclusion before it is stated, then the 
statement comes as a verification of its own conclusion and is 
welcomed heartily. The preacher loses somewhat on account 
of the inability of the audience to applaud, but all things con- 
sidered, he has a better opportunity than the ordinary speaker 
to create the psychological crowd and to handle it. 

We must recognize that rarely if ever does the entire con- 
gregation lose itself in the crowd. There are some who will 
remain indifferent and others who will be critical. The reac- 
tion is, therefore, different; some are unchanged, some are 
bored, but the majority are affected. The emotions are 
stirred, the intellect quickened, and this finally develops into 
conduct in some cases. The reader should notice that the 
ethics of forming and influencing a psychological crowd is 
not discussed here. I am neither recommending nor con- 
demning it, but simply endeavoring to state the facts. 

The matter of mental imagery has been referred to and 
should receive further consideration. In the chapter on Im- 
agination the value of the imagination in religion was indi- 
cated, and the fact that imagined lines of conduct, in com- 
mon with all ideas, tend to be realized is set forth as an im- 
portant psychological fact. Most persons are able to repro- 
duce visual images easily, and the great orators of the past 
have used visual imagery as frequently as all other kinds 
combined. Every speaker, however, is inclined to use that 


1W. D. Scott, Psychology of Public Speaking, p. 44; the whole treat- 
ment of the subject here is interesting. 


486 PREACHING 


form of imagery which impresses him most. The general 
order of frequency of mental images is visual, auditory, 
motor, tactile, olfactory, gustatory, pain, and temperature. 

Mental imagery is especially valuable to a preacher in 
arousing emotion. If an object is described so clearly that 
the auditors have no trouble in forming a mental image of it, 
the emotions are almost sure to be awakened. Certain 
forms of imagery are most successful in stirring certain emo- 
tions, as, é. g., auditory images are more likely to produce fear 
than are visual ones. 

Not only are we affected by the words which are spoken, 
but the expression of the speaker is very suggestive. Actors 
are divided into two schools, one of which claims that an 
actor must himself feel the emotion to which he gives ex- 
pression, and the other opines that feeling the emotion would 
spoil the art. No doubt that in most if not in all actors there 
is some feeling. In the pulpit it is to be supposed that the 
preacher feels what he expresses, and as he is moved so he 
moves his audience. We do not have to learn how to express 
emotion or how to interpret the emotional expression on the 
part of others; we do these things instinctively. Both, how- 
ever, may be cultivated so as to be more exact and more 
decided. 

Three principles of emotional expression are laid down by 
Spencer, Darwin, and Wundt, respectively. First, the vio- 
lence of the physical expression is in proportion to the in- 
tensity of the emotions, 7. ¢., intense emotions are accompanied 
by violent expressions, and weak emotions by weak expres- 
sions. Supplementary to this is the following: the nervous 
excitement which accompanies emotions affects the muscles 
in the inverse order of their size and the weights of the parts 
to which they are attached. From this we may understand 
why the muscles of the face are so easily moved, and why 
each facial muscle is moved as it is to correspond to the in- 


PREACHING 487 


tensity of the emotion. We can also understand the disgust 
which is generated when there is an exaggerated expression 
of a weak emotion. 

Second is the principle of serviceable associated habits. 
Our primitive ancestors in case of fear, for example, would 
shut their eyes, hold their breath, crouch, etc., in order to 
better meet the anticipated attack. Even although these 
have now ceased to be of value they are retained by us. The 
third principle is that of associated related feelings. For in- 
stance, a “bitter” experience is expressed in a manner simi- 
lar to the movements we make in tasting a bitter substance; 
a pleasant experience has concomitant “sweet” expressions. 
These three principles of expression will cover all cases, and 
prove an explanation of, as well as a guide for, the expression 
of the emotions in public speaking. In cases where the audi- 
ence is some distance from the speaker the facial expression 
may have to be exaggerated in order to be detected.’ 

Expression attracts attention far more easily than do 
words, as the visual is always more attractive than the audi- 
tory. By the means of expression, then, we are able to get 
the maximum of impression with the minimum of tax on the 
voluntary attention, and a great gain is made thereby. The 
preacher must use all /egitimate help he can from every 
source so that the effectiveness of the message may be aug- 
mented, or at least have a fair chance, on account of the 
delivery. 

1 For a fuller discussion of this subject, see W. D. Scott, Psychology 


of Public Speaking, pp. 63-101; C. Darwin, Expressions of the Emotions 
in Man and Animals; H. Spencer, Language of the Emotions. 





INDEX OF NAMES 


AszoT, E. H., 265. 

Abraham, St., 142. 

Achille, 114 ff. 

Acquinas, T., 315. 

Adams, W. H. D., 404. 

Esculapius, 197. 

Alacoque, Margaret Mary, 64, 125. 

Albert the Great, 68, rat. 

Alexander, 106. 

Alexander IV, Pope, 80. 

Allen, 177. 

Allens AV. G!, 110,122, 480. 

American Journal of Religious Psy- 
chology and Education, 62, 233, 
266, 281, 308, 315, 327, 344, 351, 
371, 375, 378, 400, 408, 409, 410, 
416, 455, 483. 

Amos, 344. 

Ananias, 226. 

Anthony, St., 64, 135, 142, 148. 

Aristotle, 149, 198, 358. 

Artigales and Rémond, 83. 

Athanasius, 132. 

Augustine, 49, 64, 314. 

Aurelius, Marcus, 121. 

Avila, J. d’, 68. 


BACON, ROGER, 121. 
Bain, A., 237. 

Baker, Rachel, 58. 
Balaam, Joan, 129. 
Banks, J. S., 362. 

Barber, 177, 179. 
Baring-Gould, S., 40. 
Barnes, E., 274. 

Barrows, Ira, 114. 
Bashkirtseff, Marie, 383. 
Basil, St., 134, 148, 446. 
Beauchamp, Misses, 114. 
Beck, F. O., 408, 410, 416. 
Beecher, H. W., 30, 347. 
Beethoven, 353. 

Bellamy, 177. 

Benedict, St., 148. 
Bernard of Clairvaux, 28, 120, 350. 


489 


Bernheim, H., 204, 207, 212. 
Berridge, 179. 

Binder, Katherine, 128. 
Binet and Féré, 82. 
Bishop, Edward, 96. 
Blake, W., 347. 
Blandina, 41. 

Bliss, 177 

Blumhardt, Jno., 206. 
Bodin, go. 

Boéhme, J., 29, 443. 
Bonaventura, St., 80, 132. 
Boniface, St., 135. 
Booth, E., 53. 

Bottazzi, Prof. F., 475. 
Bourru and Burot, 82. 
Bowne, B. P., 318. 
Bradstreet, John, 102. 
Brastow, L. O., 25. 
Brinton, 346. 

Brooks, Jane, 92; P., 30, 410, 478. 
Brown, H. W., 274. 
Brown-Sequard, Dr., 44. 
Browne, Sir T., 161. 
Brutus, 64. 

Buckland, Prof., 204. 
Buddha, 133. 

Bunyan, J., 77, 422. 
Burke, V., 144. 
Burroughs, Geo., 95, 98. 
Bushnell, H., 193, 338. 


CsSAR, JULIUS, 64. 

Caird, J., 305. 

Calvin, J., 108. 

Cardwell, R. C., 117. 

Carpenter, W. B., 76, 81, 92, 202. 

Carrington, H., 473. 

Case, C.'D., 293, 205, 2096. 

Catherine, St., 65, 80, 81, 125, 128, 
4306. 

Chalmers, Thomas, 252. 

Chamberlain, B. H., 116, 117. 

Chandler, W. A., 174, 178, 179, 182, 
183, 184. 


490 


Chantal, Mme. de, 125. 

Charcot, J. M., 102, 205. 

Charles II, 202; X, 202. 

Chauncy, C., 178; Sir H., 103. 

Chrysostom, 49. 

Clark Ha W srr. 

Clarke, R. F., 205. 

Clement of Alexandria, 25. 

Cobbe, F. B., 74. 

Coe, G. A., 23, 34, 77, 187, 188, 191, 
211, 215, 242, -256,.290,'277, 280, 
282, 289, 296, 306, 313, 362, 376, 
378, 400, 406, 407, 413. 

Coleridge, H., 55, 75. 

Constantine, 62, 256. 

Conway, M. D., 404. 

Coomes, M. F., 87. 

Cooper, Job, 59. 

Corey, Giles, 95. 

Corner-Ohlmiis, C., 112. 

Cotton, C., 182. 

Crippen, Narcissa, 143; T. G., 118, 
420. 

Crookes, Sir W., 474. 

Cudworth, Ralph, 161. 

Cullender, Rose, 92. 


Cyprian, 449. 


D’ALVIELLA, 302. 

Daniels, A. H.,. 237, 277. 

Darwin, C., 487. 

Davenport, F. M., 30, 52, 70, 111, 
127, 165, 172, 177, 178, 179, 180, 
182, 183, 184, 187, 191, 286, 293, 
300, 362, 430, 435. 

Davidson, A. B., 60. 

Davis, A. J., 444. 

Day, G. E., 85. 

Deming, C., 172. 

Denney, J., 49. 

Densmore, E., 291. 

Dickens, C., 124. 

Dionysius the Areopagite, 32. 

Dixon, W. H., 291, 439, 442, 443, 


449. 
Dom Guido, 447. 
Dorcas, 227. 
Douglass, Dr., 58. 
Dowie, J. A., 206. 
Dresser, 221. 
Drummond, H., 338. 
Dubois, W. E. B., 172. 
Du Buy, J., 281. 
Duff, Alex., 77. 
Dumas, Dr. G., 143. 


INDEX OF NAMES 


Duns Scotus, 315. 
Duny, Amy, 92. 


EBEL, W., 441, 442. 

Eckhart, 25, 364. 

Eddy, I., 53; Mrs. Mary, 214, 217, 
218, 210, 221,/22%. 

Edmonds, Judge, 56. 

Edwards, Jon., 176, 177, 178, 179, 
240, 205, 267, 336/., 384. 

Elbé, L., 465. 

Elisha, 344, 398. 

Elizabeth of Hungary, 125. 

Ellis, H., 45, 72, 90, 237, 288, 294, 
420, 423. 

Elymas, 226. 

Emerson, R. W., 24, 407. 

Encyclopedia Britannica, 
sh i 

Enricon, Count, 155. 

Erasmus, 422. 

Erskine, Rev. R., 337. 

Esquirol, E., 116. 

Estrade, J. B., 205. 

Euphraxia, St., 142. 

Everett, C. C.,. 24, 27,205, 71,5neoe 
306, 349; 379, 371, 380. 


78, 85, 


FABIAN, Pops, 108. 

Fairfield, F. G., 56. 

Fairweather, W., 106. 

Faraday, 316. 

Fénelon, 436. 

Ferreus, H., 156. 

Fian, Dr., 97. 

Finney, C. G., 164, 182, 184, 191, 
206, 256, 376. 

Fisher, G. P., 62, 103, 127, 134, 199, 
307; 315, 388, 398, 450. 

Fiske, J., 92, 93, 96, 102, 103, 272. 

Flammarion, C., 474. 

Fletcher, 221. 

Fliegen, Eve, 129. 

Flournoy, T., 348. 

Forel, A., 207. 

Fox, George, 206. 

Francis, I, 202; St., of Assisi, 27, 33, 
41, 64, 79}, 120, 125, 126, 132, 
378, 408. 

Francois, St., de Sales, 64. 

Franklin B., 207. 

Frere, W. H., 393. 

Froude, J. A., 422. 

Fry, Elizabeth, 77. 


INDEX OF NAMES 


GALTON, F., 129, 423. 

Gamond, Blanche, 40. 

Gardiner, James, 77. 

Gardner, Col., 429. 

Garland, H., 475. 

Gassner, J. J., 206. 

Geddes and Thompson, 286, 446. 

Gertrude, St., 64, 303, 436, 437. 

Gibbon, E., 155. 

Giles, Brother, 123. 

Glanvill, J., 302. 

Goodwin, Martha, 96; Mrs., 99. 

Gothe, W. von, 443. 

Gottschalk, 155. 

Grandier, U., 109. 

Granger, F., 24, 29, 42, III, 124, 
130, 135, 186, 194, 237, 259}. 
347, 392, 425. 

Greatrakes, V., 206. 

Gregory, I, 200. 

Gridley, Dr., 443. 

Guyon, Mme., 39, 384, 437- 


HALE, Sir M., 161. 

RailkeG. 9, 07, 125, 178, 240, 274, 
276, 279, 282, 428. 

Hammond, E. P., 268; W. A., 128, 
143. 

Harnack, A., 123, 302, 436. 

Hastings’ Bible Dictionary, 49, 60, 
725115, 91, 100, 108, 317: 

Hastings’ Dictionary of Christ, etc., 
49, 78, 105. 

Hastings, J., 78. 

Hawthorne, N., 88. 

Hawthornthwaite, S., 54. 

Hayes, S. P., 178. 

Heath, R., 56. 

Peckers |}... C., 93, 158,' 162, 163, 
165. 

Hegel, G. W. F., 29, 302. 

Helmont, J. B. von, 207. 

Herbart, J. F.,.370. 

Hervey, G. W., 337- 

Hicks, 179; Mrs., 93. 

Hildebrand, r2r. 

PGI D:;'S.:,: 409. 

Hohenlohe, Prince, 206. 

Hopkins, Matthew, 99. 

Howard, J. R., 348. 

Hughes, T., 296. 

Hugo of St. Victor, 315. 

Hurd, Rev. C., 262 /f.; Marion, 


263 }. 
Huxley, T. H., 46s. 


491 


Hylan, J. P., 394, 396, 398. 


Hyslop, J. H., 471, 473, 474, 4753 
Lae AE2, 


ILLINGWORTH, J. R., 403. 

Indian, John, 96, 97. 

Inge, W. R., 22, 23, 24, 27, 63, 68, 
138, 305, 328, 381, 435, 437- 

Innocent III, 156; VII, 160. 

Irving, E., 53. 

Isaiah, 353. 


JAcoB, SARAH, 129. 

James I, 97; II, 202. 

James, W.,' 13,27, 31, 32,30, 40; 415 
46, 62, 69, 71, 114, 122, 124, 125, 
126, 139, 142, 188, 218, 236, 238, 
240, 242, 245, 246, 256, 260, 301, 
395, 320, 327, 354, 362, 370, 372, 
373) 377, 378, 403, 413, 415, 429, 
431, 437, 438, 459, 462, 467, 474. 

Janet, Prof., 114 7. 

Jastrow, J. 73> 473: 

Jeanne des Anges, Sceur, 109, 437. 

Jerome, St.,.134; 142, 148: 

Jesus, 23, 105 Is 123, 127, 133, 223- 
231, 295-298, 301, 314, 352, 359) 
361, 446. 

Joan of Arc, 65, 424. 

John, 23, 227, 381; St., of the Cross, 
33, 08; 138,'303;373;" St., of God, 
125; of Leyden, 442, 443; of Ly- 
copolis, 446; Pope, XXIII, 453. 

Johnson, C., 475; E. H., 339, 349, 
341. 

Jones, R., 92. 

Jovinian, 138. 

Julian of Norwich, 64, 437. 


KANT, I., 330, 466. 

Kaplan, J. H., 344, 345, 351- 
Kennard, J. S., 478. 

King, E. A., 200. 

Kinsley, W. W., 417. 

Kline, L. W., 483. 

Knight, C., 93, 103. 
Krafft-Ebing, R. von, 424, 426. 


GADD, Ges, 27 e557 3307 tee 7 
215, 306, 321, 322, 330, 331, 334, 
338, 339; 343, 354, 355, 360, 368, 
375 378; 379; 405, 408, 426, 429, 
457- 

Tene je Casg8: 

Lapponi, Dr. G., 474. 


492 


Lassiguardie, Dr., 132. 

Lateau, Louise, 65, 85 }. 

Law, W., 381. 

Lazarus, 227. 

Le Barron, A., 53. 

Le Bon, G., 165, 288. 

Lecky, W. E. H., 63, 98, 135, 142, 
202, 287, 290, 295, 299, 421, 450, 
454, 401. 

Lee, Ann, 443, 444- 

Lefebvre, Dr., 86. 

Leibault, Dr., 207. 

Lentulus, Paulus, 128. 

Léonie, 114. 

Leuba,) JH; 32,30, 237,0241,. 240, 
206, 308, 315, 371, 375, 379; 378. 

Livingston, J., 176. 

Lodge, Sir O., 474. 

Lombroso, C., 474. 

Louis XV.) 16050 St., Lads... 

Louvier, 110. 

Luke, 50, 52, 107. 

Lukins, Geo., III. 

Luther, M., 89, 108, 245, 306, 398, 
460. 


Macavutay, T. B., 202. 

McConnell, S. D., 467. 

McDonald, J. H., 189. 

McGee, 180. 

McGiffert, A. C., 51. 

McGready, Rev. J., 180. 

Mackay, C., 103, 200. 

Macpherson, J., 176. 

Magoutier, Marie, 65. 

Malory, 142, 143. 

Manacéine, M. de, 72. 

Manwell, S. A., 58. 

Marconi, G., 474. 

Margaret, St., 65, 303. 

Marguerite Marie, 383. 

Marie de l’Incarnation, 437, 438. 

Marillier, L., 66. 

Mark, 23, 107, 228. 

Marshall, H. R., 136. 

Martin, St., of Tours, 132; Su- 
sannah, 93. 

Martineau, J., 30, 302. 

Martyr, Justin, 388, 449. 

Mather, Cotton, 96, 104; Increase, 
102. 

Matthew, 77, 107, 236. 

Matthieson, H., 443. 

Maudsley, H., 445. 

Maxwell, W., 207. 


INDEX OF NAMES 


Melanchthon, P., 108. 

Mesmer, A., 207. 

Meyer; H.-A; Wp So: 

Michelangelo, 42. 

Mill, J. S., 467. 

Milman, H. H., 450. 

Milmine, G., 214. 

Milton, J., 347. 

Mitchell, Dr., 58. 

Mohammed, 73, 346. 

Molinos, M. de, 68. 

Moll, A., 43, 56, 73, 75, 83, 197, 207. 

Moody, D. L., 144, 183 }., 192; 
R., 184. 

Moore, Ann, 1209. 

Morel, Marie de, 65. 

Moses, J., 22, 124,) 830.009 smut, 
178, 182, 200, 313, 404, 420, 435, 


445. 

Miller, G.; 4r67-7)0 ate. 

Munger, T., 198. 

Miinsterberg, H., 214. 

Murisier, E., 21. 

Myers, F. W. H., 75, 83, 87, 102, 109, 
205, 219, 354, 415, 427, 479, 471, 
472. 


NETTLETON, REv. A., 182, 191. 
Nevins, W. S., 89, 103. 
Nevius, J. L., 54, 112, 113. 
Newell, 206. 
New International 
79, 91, 108. 
Newman, J. H., 195. 
Newton, J., 77. 
Nichol, T., 49. 
Nicholas, 156. 
Norman, C., 423. 
North, Roger, 94. 
Northcote, H., 423. 
Noyes, J. H., 440, 442, 444- 
Nystrom, A., 423. 


Encyclopedia, 


OccaM, 307. 
Oesterley, W. O. E., 105- 
Origen, 25. 


PACHOMIUS, 148. 

Palodino, E., 475. 
Paracelsus, 203, 207. 

Paris, Deacon, 168, 205. 
Parish, E., 44, 71, IOI, 10> 
Parkman, F., 439. 

Parris, S., 95, 96, 99. 
Parsons, 177. 


INDEX OF NAMES 


Patrick, St, 77; 

Patton, W. W., 417. 

Paul, 23 j., 26, 51, 62, 127, 133, 228 . 
233, 235, 256, 348, 469. 

Paul of Thebes, 134, 147, 148. 

Paula, 142. 

Payne, Jos., 59. 

Peter, 226, 227 }., 446. 

Peter the Hermit, TOA uth ss ThA. 

Pettigrew, T. J., 201. 

Pfleiderer, O., 260. 

Phidias, 353. 

Philip, R., 178. 

Pierce, M., 114. 

Pierre, St., 383. 

Piper, Mrs., 474. 

Pius II, 81 

Poeman, St., 142. 

Pomroy, 177. 

Ponponazzi, P., 203. 

ODEs kas 300. 

Porcus, W., 156. 

Pratt, J. B., 27, 32, 42, 45, 113, 127, 
274, 282, 308, 309, 346, 408. 

Price, I. M., 185. 

Priestly, Dr., 58. 

PE Pince, dao, 447,442; \M:, Go. 

Putnam, Ann, 95; Mrs., 95, 97. 

Pyrrhus, 202. 


QuimBy, P. P., 214. 


RAMANATHAN, P., 34. 
Ransom, S. W., 410. 
Raphael, 64, 354. 
Raymond, G. L., 40, 351. 
Remigius, 160. 
Remy, Judge, 98. 
Renata, Maria, 103. 
Rhodes, A. S., 434. 
Ribet, 436. 
Ribot,” T..) 44, 46, 102, 110, 253, 
375, 380, 394, 479. 
Richard of St. Victor, 68. 
Richet, Prof. C., 474. 
Rider, 440. 
Ridpath, J. C., 96. 
Riley, I. W., 53, 54. 
Ritschl, A., 427. 
Roberts, Evan, 184. 
Robertson, A., 49. 
Romanes, G. J., 288, 


302. 
myer 1.4.02, 233, 


293, 298, 


493 


Ruskin, J., 334, 392. 
Rusticus, 142. 


Ruysbroek, John of, 27, 35, 364. 


SABATIER, A., 370, 403; P., 79. 

Sankey, I. D., 183. 

Santanelli, 207. 

Sapphira, 226. 

Saul, 344. 

Savonarola, 346, 347. 

Scaramelli, 436. 

Schaff, P., 50. 

Schlatter, 206. 

Schleiermacher, F. E. D., 5, 24, 25, 
29, 370. 

Schréder, 206. 

Schréder van der Kolk, 423. 

Schroeder, T., 455. 

Schwann, T., 86. 

Scott, W., 73, 94, 99, IOI, 103. 

Scott, W. D., 482, 483, 485, 487. 

Scotus Erigena, 25. 

Shakespeare, W., 353. 

Sharp, C. \K.,9o. 

Shaw, Christian, 93; T. C., 291. 

Sheldon, 440, 442. 

Sherman, E. B., 182. 

Shinn, M. W., 274. 

Sidis, B., 98, 99, 162, 167, 182, 183, 
194. 

Silvia, 142. 

Simeon Stylites, 128, 135. 

Smith, Héléne, 348; J., 303; Jos., 
65, 111, 346, 444; R., 68, 345. 
Society for Psychical Research, Pro- 

ceedings of, 53, 66, 211, 210. 

Speer, R. E:, 296. 

Spencer, i. 28, 51057497, 

Spitzka, R. C., 424. 

Stanley, H. M., 406. 

Starbuck, E. D., 188, 236, 237, 240, 
251, 257, 276, 277, 279, 282, 288, 
312, 327, 363, 370, 376, 428. 

Starke, Frau, 206. 

Stephen of Cloyes, 155. 

Stevenson, R. L., 76, 131. 

Stoddard, S., 176. 

Stone, E., 440. 

Street, J. R:, 274: 

Strong, A. L., 410. 

Stuckenborg, Mrs., 87. 

Sully, J., 274. 

Sunday, Rev. W., 190}. 

Super, C. W., 400. 

Surin, Father, 109. 


494 


Suso, H., 64, 138, 140, 142, 436. 
Swedenborg, E., 29, 64, 440, 443. 


TAULER, J., 68, 138. 

Taylor, I., 40, 448, 452, 453. 

Tennant, G. and W., 178. 

Teresa, St., 27, 29, 30, 39, 42, 61, 
64, 143, 303, 335, 374, 439; 437- 

Tersteegen, G., 443. 

Thomas, W. I., 285, 292. 

Thompson, H. B., 291. 

Tillinghart, J. A., 171. 

Timothy, 234. 

Tissot, Prof., 55. 

Trine, R. W., 221. 

‘Tuckey; C12; 44,573, 63, 203, 207: 

‘uke, | DyiH.3 7253: 

Tylor, (KE. B:,:.60,2130. 

Tyndall, J., 333- 


UNBEKANNT, 409. 
Upton, 370. 
Urban II, 153, 154. 


VAUGHN, R. A., 42. 
Vernon, Dr., 206. 
Vespasian, 202. 
Victor Emanuel, 203. 
Virchow, R., 87. 
Volkar, 155. 


INDEX OF NAMES 


WALDSTEIN, L., 72, 198, 354. 

Walter the Penniless, 154, 155. 

Warfield, B. B., 77, 317. 

Warloment, E., dd 

Weininger, O., 285, 446, 461. 

Weiss, Margaret, 128. 

Wellwood, A., 384. 

Wenham, Jane, 103. 

Wetterstrand, O. G., 207. 

Wheelock, 177. 

Whichcote, B., 303. 

White, A. D., 55, 201, 202; W., 29. 

Whitefield, G., 177 7., 336. 

Whitehouse, O. C., 72, 91, 108. 

Wier, 428. 

William III, 202. 

Winthrop, Gov., 198. 

Wishart, A. W., 122, 144. 

Wood, H., 211, 221. 

Wordsworth, W., 335. 

Wright, A., 52, 54, 57, 59; T. H. 
105. 


XAVIER, FRANCIS, 125. 


YANDELL, D. W., 182. 
Young, B., 444. 


ZACCHEUS, 234. 
Zevi, Sabbathai, 170. 
Zouave, Jacob, 206. 
Zwingli, U., 108. 


INDEX OF SUBJECTS 


ABNORMAL, CONDITIONS, 4, 354. 
Adolescence, 274-282; characteris- 
tics of, 276-281; divisions of, 


275: 
ZEsthetics, 353 /., 378 ff. 391. 
Age, Chap. XIX, divisions of, 270. 
Agnosticism, 324. 
Anesthesia, 40 }. 
Apostolic Faith Movement, 57. 
Asceticism, Chap. XI. See Monas- 
ticism. 
Awakening, Religious, 277. 
Awe, 377 /. 


BELIEF, 282, 308 ff., 311, 365. 
Body and mind in disease, 208 }. 


CASTRATION, 444 ff. 

Catholic Apostolic Church, 53. 

Celibacy, 446-454. 

Ceremonial, 390 ff. 

Children, 262-274; characteristics 
of, 270-274; crusades of, 155- 
157; ideas of God among, 271 }.; 
training of, 268 ff. 

Christian Science, Chap. XVI; phil- 
osophical postulates of, 215; psy- 
chological explanation of, 215 7. 

Cleanliness, 142. 

Cognition. See Knowledge. 

Confession, 124 }., 453. 

Contagion, Psychic, Chap. - XIII, 
examples of, 163-165, 167 }., 
168 }., 170, 7733 in revivals, 187 }.; 
laws of, 163-165. 

Continence, 124, 444-455. 

Conversion, Chap. XVIII, counter, 
236; definition of, 236-238, 362; 
factors of, 239-250; forms of, 236, 
254; instantaneous, 233/.; of 
adolescents, 276 ff.; of children, 
267 j.; power of, 251 ff.; results 
of, 249-251; uniform, 233 /., 235. 

Conviction, 239 }. 

Convulsionaries, 38, 168 }. 


Crowd. See Contagion. 
Crusades, 152-157; children’s, 155- 
157; first, 154 /. 


DANCE, 38, 158-160; St. John’s, 
TSOi Sty aVaAlusi. 180). 

Demoniacal possession, Chap. X, 54, 
89; cases of, 107, 108-112, 113, 
114 7.;. theories, Of; 105)).,\ 113 7; 
117; subjects of, 116. 

Denominationalism, Chap. XXX, 
208 ff.; cause of, 457-461; neces- 
sity of, 456/.; value of, 461-464. 

Divine elements, 232, 259 ff. 

Dominicans, 79, 80 /., 145. 

Doubt, 242, 279 ff., 312-314.; divi- 
sions of, 313. 

Dreams, Chap. VII; character of, 
73 }/.; of prophecy, 72; work dur- 
ing, 74 ff 


Ecstasy, Chap. IV, 21, 69; causes 
of, 42; kinds of, 45. 

Emotions, Chap. XXVI, 188, 247 }., 
250, 252, 272, 287, 395; 325-328, 
360, 363, 394/.; decline of, 374; 
expression of, 373 }., 486 }.; ‘kinds 
of, 374-386; value of, 370 ff. 

Epidemics, religious, Chap. XII, 
decline of, 161. 

Epistemology. See Knowledge. 

Exorcism, 108, 111 }. 


Facutty, REtIcious, Chap. II, 356. 

Faith; 227,)°2285:;° 246'f.9)\ 314-3195 
classes of, 315. 

Faith cure, Chap. XV, 220 }., 225 /., 
229; classes of, 204, 214; early, 
196 #f.; theories of, 207-213. 

Fasting, 80, 124, 127-133; effects 
of, 130-133; girls, 128}. 

Fear, 375 ff 

Feelings. See Emotions. 

Flagellants, 157 /. 

Franciscans, 79, 80 }., 145, 149. 


495 


496 


GENIus, 16}., 353 ff. 

Glossolalia, Chap. V, Luke’s idea 
of, 49/.; modern view of, 52; 
Paul’s idea of, 50/. 

Great Awakening, The, 176-179. 


HEALERS, 206. 
Humility, 124 7., 385. 
Hypnotism, 207 }., 218, 225 f., 257 }. 


IMAGINATION, Chap. XXIII, kinds 
of, 334/.; uses of, 3367; value 
of, 3327, 335, 338 ff. 

Immortality, Chap. XXXI, objec- 
tion to, 466-468; spiritism and, 
468-476. . 

Inner light, 327 }. 

Inspiration, Chap. XXIV, kinds of, 
349 ff-» 355 7.5. modern, 347 /.; of 
founders of religions, 343; primi- 
tive, 343 /., 345- 

Intellect, Chap. XXI, 286/.; as 
arbiter, 305; as source, 306; de- 
ficiency of, 303; value in religion, 
303 }. 


JUMPERS, 169. 


E-ENOSIS, 105. 

Kentucky revival, 179-182. 

King’s touch, 202 }. 

Knowledge, Chap. XXII, 28 }.; fac- 
tors of, 323-329; religious, 320 7.; 
value of, 330 }. 


LOVE, 33 /., 380-385. 


Memory, EXALTED, 55 /., 74; in- 
herited, 56. 

Mental healing. See Faith Cure. 

Miracles, Chap. XVIII, definition 
of, 224. 

Monasticism, Chap. XI, 147-151; 
decline of, 150; stages of, 119; 
value of, 120}. 

Mormonism, 53. 

Mould, The Human, Chap. I. 

Music, 397-401, 430. 

Mysticism, Chap. III, kinds of, 22, 
29 f., 35; stages of, 317; value 
of, 31! 


NEGROES, 170-173. 
Newness, feeling of, 247 }. 


INDEX OF SUBJECTS 


OBEDIENCE, 124, 125 }. 
Odor of sanctity, 142 7. 


PANTHEISM, 24. 

Pentecost, 49 . 

Pilgrimages, 151 /. 

Poverty, 124, 126. 

Prayer, Chap. XXVIII, 21, 204; 
decline of, 405/7.; definition of, 
403; limits of, 406 ff.; method of, 
404; tests of, 416; value of, 409- 
418. 

Preaching, Chap. XXXII, attention 
and, 478-481; emotional expres- 
sion in, 486 /.; imagery and, 485 /.; 
personality and, 478; rhythm in, 
482 7.; suggestion in, 483 7. 


Presence of God, 27. 


Psychological data, 9 }., 232. 
Psychological study of religion, 5, 6ff. 


REASON. See INTELLECT. 

Relics, 199 ff. 

Religion comprehensive, 12, 19, 238. 

Religious bias, 12 }. 

Repentance, 361. 

Resignation, 39. 

Revelation. See Inspiration. 

Revivals, Chap. XIV, 57, 69, 77, 
164/., 172, 360}7.; contagion in, 
187 j.; defects of, 188 7., 195, 372, 
433 /.; early, 176; future of, 191 7.; 
Great Awakening, 176-179; Ken- 
tucky, 179-182, 433; Moody, 
183 7.; of 1832, "182; 433)%oon 
1857, 183; Welsh, 184}. 


SALEM, WITCHCRAFT IN, 95 /. 
Science and religion, 5, 6, 8, 307. 
Self-denial, 122 7f., 280. 
Self-surrender, 29, 243 /., 361. 

Self, the divided, 241 ff. 

Seminaries, theological, 7 /. ; 

Sex, Chap. XX, 393; denomina- 
tionalism and, 2098 ff.; explanation 
of differences of, 291-295; psy- 
chological differences of, 285-288; 
religious differences of, 288-291, 
294 }., 295-208. 

Sexuality, Chap. XXIX, 124, 291; 
adolescence and, 427-432; evi- 
dence of, 420; in early church, 
420}.; pathology and, 422 7f.; 
religion and, 424 ff.; revivals and, 
433 ff. 


INDEX OF 


Shrines, 204 7.; Lourdes, 205 }.; St. 
Anne de Beaupré, 205 /. 

Sin, sense of, 239 7. 

Sleep, 17. 

Sleeping preachers, 58 }. 

Solipsism, 324. 

Solitude, 124, 
135}. 

Spiritism. See Immortality. 

Spiritual marriage, 434-444. 

Stigmata diaboli, ror 7. 

Stigmatization, Chap. VIII, cases 
of, 79-83, 85/., 86; degrees of, 
84 }. 


133-137; value of, 


Subconsciousness, 14 ff., 36, 47, 69, 
73, 150, 209 }., 254-259, 335,345 /., 
351 f5 355) 363}. 

Sublime, 378 7. 

Suggestion, 226 7f., 2093 }. 

Suggestive therapeutics. 
Cure. 

Suicide, 98. 

Sunday observance, 396 /. 


See Faith 


TARANTISM, 159 }. 
Temperament, 20, 35, 66, 389. 
Tongues, gift of. See Glossolalia. 


SUBJECTS 497 


Torture, 40 }., 81, 97 f., 137-142. 
Transfiguration, 143 }. 


UNION WITH GoD, 23, 25, 27 }. 


Visions, CuHap. VI, 38, 168; char- 
acteristics of, 66 ff.; contents of, 
62-66; in the Old Testament, 60. 

Volition. See Will. 


WELSH REVIVAL, 184 f. 

Will, Chap. XXV, 245, 252 /.,' 287, 
305; factors of, 366/.; freedom 
Of, 367. 77.3. “primacy. of, 3538 j:; 
shattered, 363. 

Witchcraft, Chap. IX, 160/7.; cases 
of, 92}., 97,7.; characteristics of, 
go1; decline of, 102/.; evidence 
for, 93-101; fraud in, 94; power 
of, go }. 

Witchfinders, 99. 

Women and monastic life, 144; and 
celibacy, 446-450; characteris- 
HES OLN mee Sex 

Worship, Chap. XXVII, see also 
Prayer, Denominationalism; early 
387 }.; factors of, 394 ff.; value of, 
395: 











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